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clairdelunelove · 4 months

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ghost who is a firm devotee of giving his pretty girl the "princess treatment" that she deserves

ghost who drops to his knees in order to tie your shoes. before the two of you leave the house he’s triple checking to see if your shoelaces are tied because of an incident that happened once. emphasis on once. the occurrence took place when you were running extremely late and couldn’t bother lacing up your laces before jogging out the door. thus causing you to trip (in the comedic slow motion fashion) while ghost scrambled to catch you before you keeled over. you didn’t think much of it since these things happen; you’re clumsy! and sometimes get your steps muddled together. so you shrugged it off. happily patted him on the back for steadying you and chirped, “thanks, si!” then breezed by him like nothing major happened. not ghost, though. this man was stressed. and if you have the habit of just slipping on your shoes without bothering to retie the laces– then please think again. will actively sit you down so he can personally tie your laces. “you’re driving me crazy here,” he’ll grunt out as his fingers expertly work to knot the shoe’s strings. places a big hand over your thigh and firmly squeezes it if you dangle your legs away from him since it makes the task more difficult. even if you’re both wandering the streets he’ll drop to his knees if you just so happen to mumble that your laces are beginning to become untied. “‘knew it was getting loose,” you mumble disappointingly as your lower lip juts out, “could feel it when we left the car.” he stops the flow of pedestrian traffic for you. pays no attention to the arrogant businessmen who curse him or the flock of students that rush past him. ghost could be wearing his last pair of clean trousers and he’d still scuff his knees to tend to you. it’s quite a sight, in actuality. such a large man like him hunching over just to tie your shoes. a genuine act of service that he’s adamant about. you can’t help but hungrily stare when you peer down at him because he’s dressed in a dark hoodie that emphasizes the breadth of his shoulders. how a man as mighty and tremendous as he is succumbs to softness when he’s with you. “let me tie it,” he beckons for you to step towards him with a quick wave of his hand, “stay still f’me, will ya?”

ghost who, without fail, kisses your hand before he leaves. doesn’t matter if it’s for a minimal task. you ask him to run and get some groceries for tomorrow’s dinner: he’s brushing his lips against your hand. or if he’s called into deployment: he’s taking an extra second to carry out his routine as a way of promising you that he’ll be careful. now, ghost isn’t an exceptionally verbal person. picking and finding the right words never worked in his favor. he stumbles, quite a bit, over verbally expressing his appreciation for you so he does this instead. can’t fathom excusing his downfall if it might hurt your feelings. if he walks out the door, you should 100% anticipate that he’ll press a kiss to the back of your hand and even if he is a punctual man, he can’t be bothered to rush if he hasn’t. will search the house for you (if you’re not seeing him out). and if he finds you, more often than not you’re experimenting with a recipe in the kitchen, he’ll voice, “c’mere, pup.” he melts inside when you instinctively turn to him. subconsciously invite him into your space. he’s reduced to putty when he gets a glimpse of you like this and it consumes all his willpower to push aside the urge to stay. you’re all wide-eyed and pretty just as he’s about to leave. a captivating glow surrounding you under the kitchen’s fluorescent light. “going out with the boys now, si?” you question while swiping a hand across your forehead, “tell them I said hello. I'll have to drop by to drop some desserts off to them–” your merry smile is interrupted by ghost edging towards you. he pinches his mask between his fingers to pull the fabric up, leisurely brings your hand closer to his face, and brushes his lips on your knuckles. he’s extraordinarily tender. unbeknownst to him your heart flips in your chest at his measured movements. “didn’t wanna go,” he grumbles while taking ahold of your hand in both of his, “fancied stayin’ with you f’tonight.”

ghost who doesn’t let you open car doors– or any doors in general– when he’s with you. it could be when you’re running errands and he self-invites decides to accompany you on your little shopping spree. at first you’re a tad bit confused, not entirely anticipating that he’d wish to join since browsing at the local stores wasn’t an idea he was rather fond of. he preferred to stay inside, catch up on some rest, or busy himself with household chores so you were puzzled by his change of heart. “you sure you wanna go, si? I’m just gonna see if they have anything new,” you sling your purse over your shoulder while throwing a glance in his direction, “it’s alright if you don’t want to.” it was a quiet day too. a time where ghost could escape the responsibilities of being a lieutenant and unwind. quite frankly, his comfort was yours and you made sure to soften your voice to convey that notion. ghost, who was seated and thumbing through a small novel, simply shrugs, “‘m not doin’ anything else important, sweetheart.” and the finality in his words causes you to agreeably hum. before you can open the front door, however, ghost hastens to grab the handle. his swiftness catches you off-guard but he only raises a brow if you question him about it. won’t be the last time either because his cool, calculated movements speed up when you try opening the car door for yourself too. “si,” you can’t help but giggle a bit at his briskness, “this is getting ridiculous.” simon patiently waits until you’re fully settled in the passenger seat before grunting, “how? barmy idea you’d think I’d let you touch a door.” thoughtfully adjusts your seatbelt too. then when the two of you arrive at a store he’s hustling to grab the front entrance’s handle. will always beat you to it; regardless of the circumstances. makes you feel all warm inside even if it’s such a simple gesture. and when he speaks his tone is frank, “won’t let my girl get her pretty hands dirty.” it’s common sense, in fact. your hands are too delicate, according to ghost’s reasoning, to hold such a grimy surface. you pass by him with a sweet smile on your face, voicing your appreciation while he just opens it wider for you– falling under your spell once more.

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost x y/n #ghost x you

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occamstfs · 1 month

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Diet Diaries

Hi all! Thank you so much for 500 followers! Here's a little style switch up to celebrate, got a lotta refs in this one and I quite leaned into the diary entries so I hope it's not too much! Hope y'all enjoy this stereotype reversal and as always, best! -Occam

Monday March 21st-

Andy:

I am beyond sick of Steve. Moving in together was a mistake, I don’t care how cheap the rent is, he is a narcissistic slob and I am eager to never see him again. Well no, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Our R.A. had this idea to try and walk in each other's shoes, which I don’t know? It might not be the worst thing? My big idea was switching diets actually- honestly I’m just hoping if he ate more like me he’ll stop stinking up the dorm. I can dream at least. Literally though he just can’t go to the gym as often if he eats like me. If I'm lucky at the very least his deodorant will last longer, I cannot take another day of his b.o. seeping through the walls, ugh! Anyway, wish me luck! I’m sure this will be a breeze for me, he usually just eats junk anyway, hope he enjoys my salads~

Steve:

Andy that little fucker. He was being such a little bitch to James and now I’ve gotta eat his rabbit food for a week or lose this bet or whatever. Steve don’t lose tho. Lil twink’s gotta eat whatever I make him too and you can bet your ass I’m gonna make him match my macros if I’ve gotta starve myself like he wants. Fuck! This shit is going to absolutely tank my routine! I’ve gotta make Andy give up. I’m gonna go so hard on him he’ll have to hit weights if he doesn't want to blow up like a pig. Maybe then he’ll stop bitching any time I don’t fucking shower every time I get back home.

Tuesday March 22nd-

Andy:

My Lord! He is trying to kill me! I don’t know how anyone could consistently eat as much as he’s telling me to. I’m so bloated from all this food.. He looks so smug every time he tells me to keep eating, I’m sure he doesn’t eat like this. He’s just trying to break me but I’m not going to let him win this easy.

Ugh, I feel so bloated my pants are so tight on my waist. I didn’t think meat sweats were a thing but man I am needing to put on deodorant like twice a day now and I’m not even exercising. I will say that now that I’m eating so much, I don’t hate the idea of going to the gym. It’s been a while since I went but I should probably at least hit up the treadmill lest I get even more of a gut- maybe I’ll see if he wants to go tomorrow. This is all just an exercise to understand each other more after all, no need to make it a stupid competition like he wants eh~

Steve:

Fuck! I am so tired of Andy’s pussy-ass diet. I had absolutely no energy at the gym today, I told all my bros that I was just gonna take it easy but fuck! I really was working my ass off and I struggled to even meet a PR I set last week. It was supposed to be a push day and I didn’t even get a chest pump! Why the fuck am I still going. I’m abso-fucking-lutely not getting gains on his fuckin’ bitch-ass salads and oats.

Eatin’ like a fucking twink and the fucker has the nerve to ask to go to the gym with me tomorrow. I’ll make sure he regrets that >:) Gonna work him like a horse so he’ll throw in the towel! After feeling how sore actually working on yourself makes ya, he might actually learn something. I’ll turn in early so I can go all out and show him what a real man looks like.

Wednesday March 23rd-

Andrew:

Man! I totally get why Steven eats so much now~ I am absolutely raring to go and get this; He said I could go to the gym with him today! He even seemed like he wanted me to go with him! I feel like I have more energy than I’ve ever had before, I might even try some weights!! I don’t know but I’m so excited! It’s like I can feel my chest and biceps begging me to go and hit some iron haha! Or whatever those “bros” say~ I hope he’s got something good planned for lunch because I fuck Sorry! I just want to show him that I can do all this dude stuff too! I’m a man right? I guess all this protein is making me feel more like a man than usual idk. Either way though I’m ready to go! Hope we have some fun!

Steven:

That bitch’s fuckin’ fru fru salads are ruining my PR’s for sure! I bet he knew that when he begged me to take him to the gym today, knew it was the only time he could show off to me was when I’m so out of it. And he didn't! Just to be clear I could still wipe the floor with him even if I’m not at my A-game. Ugh, I do gotta hand it to the little fucker though. I KNOW he hasn’t even really set foot in a gym before but man. Beginners luck my ass, as soon as I showed him a technique he lifted like he’s been doing it his whole life! It’s like I could see his pecs and tris swelling up with each lift. Not that I was staring at the bitch or anything but he’s just I just need this fuckin’ diet thing to end so I can get back to my grind, I guess I wouldn’t hate taking him to the gym more often, would be hot to make a bitch into a bro Fuck! What am I writing, I just need to lift again.

Thursday March 24th-

Andrew:

Bro! Weird? Whatever, I am absolutely on fire! Steven’s diet is absolutely killer! I don’t know how it’s working so well but man I couldn’t care less, I felt like a pro in there! My coaches in school would always shit on me for not trying but man! I was barely trying yesterday but I could tell from the look on Steven’s face that I was acing it! I guess I’ll have to admit to him that he is definitely onto something with his macros but man, not until he gives up haha! Man, I need to chill haha, it’s not like I’m any stronger than I was Monday but man, looking at myself in the mirror it just seems like my clothes are just fitting better. Catching on my chest rather than my stomach y’know? I’ve never noticed that there is muscle on my arms before but man the way my sleeves are kinda hugging my biceps mm. I need to chill haha! Can’t use all my energy before hitting the gym again today!

OH! Also totally weird, I’ve had to shave twice this week! Once last night and then again this morning which is so weird! I’m not complaining though, it’s not like I wouldnt look hot with a beard right? Although my face is a little itchy already, my chest too? Whatever though haha! Time to head back to the grind lol!

Steven:

God!! Andy Andrew is being such an asshole! He’s clogging the sink shaving which I know he would so be on my ass if I had done that. Wait, he did get on my ass for shaving! But it hasn’t been a problem this week, it’s like I’m not even growing stubble for some reason? Probably from not working so hard at the gym, is that how that works? Whatever it’ll be over as soon as this stupid diet thing is. We’re halfway through now. Thank God! Because that fucking twink is starting to stink up the dorm which again!! He was such a little bitch all the time to me about that! It’s like he’s literally stopped using deodorant as soon as he started needing it! He’s never exerted himself in his life and now that his pits are sweating at all he’s suddenly allergic to hygiene, ugh! I saw last night too the fucker fell asleep with his head in his pit too so it’s not like he doesn’t know it.

It was a little surprising actually, cause I would’ve sworn he was hairless like one of those freak cats but man his pit was as thick as my pubes! Thicker maybe, uh? Man I wish I could get that image out of my head, it’s like the tuft was pushing out further each time he inhaled, man that’s kinda hot? Fuck! I swear this twink-ass diet is making me think like him too. I need to sneak to the gym later, without him. I cannot have him getting ahead even while I’m still on his chickenshit diet.

Friday March 25th-

Steven:

Ah!! That Little bitch! He was already at the gym when I got there! Ugh! It makes me want to punch a wall, or fight him. Or something I dont know! It’s just, he was lifting my body weight on the bench when he saw me, it was so ho ugh! It doesn’t matter what it was, I can’t stop thinking of that smug look on his face- what I would give to wipe it off… That absolute prick knew what he was doing. Ugh, speaking of pricks! He may as well have not been wearing shorts at all by how much his cock was showing through them.

I knew my meal prepping was fucking tight but man, I can’t believe hot its made him. It just really fucking turns me on, or no its such a turn on for chicks. Yeah. Whatever. I need this bet to end already. Clearly he’s totally obsessed with my lifestyle so he should just admit it already! Also, hate to say it, but to Andrew’s credit his diet ain't too bad either. I’d never tell him this, and it is all a little emasculating but my skin has never looked this good. I’m not even doing skincare or anything but it’s like I’ve been on a routine for years, it’s crazy! It’s still ruining my upper gains but man, my ass looks so good it's crazy..

Oh also re: facial hair, I woke up this morning and could’ve sworn I used to have chest hair but now it looks like I’ve got just a little left around my nipples and leading up from my pubes? I might go ahead and shave those too, might as well be totally smooth like a chick right haha, I wonder what Andrew would think? I need to chill haha, maybe I’ll go see if he’s still at the gym~

Andrew:

Fuuuuck dude lol. I should’ve started hitting up the gym ages ago. Don’t know what I was even wasting time on before I started doing twice-a-days? Studying I guess but I can figure that shit stuff out hm. Fuck it is so much better to be strong than a dweeb. Every set it feels like I’m just busting out new PR’s! Gonna need to buy new clothes though cause I am absolutely tearing up my crop tops, my twinky little wardrobe just isn’t cutting it anymore. Maybe Steven’d be down for a clothes swap, I’ve seen him eying up my fits all week, god knows he’ll fit them better lol. Oh haha, and speaking of him eying things up >:) You should’ve seen his little face blush when he walked into the gym this morning! He looked so pissed at me lol, but I’m not gonna grab him to come along every time I need to get some sets in right? It was pretty embarrassing for him yesterday anyway, the way I showed him up lol. I’m not just gonna sit around and watch him not lift weights when I can figure this shit out myself, thought it was supposed to be his thing though lol.

Mm, saying that though, I def didn’t hate having a little audience from his treadmill. God, his blushing face as he stared directly at my work-out chub. Fuck, it really got me going. It really helped my sets too haha. Maybe I should hit him up lol, I can tell how bad he wants me >:)

Saturday March 26th-

Stevie:

Ugh! That douche is walking around the dorm completely shirtless! Do you know what it’s like to have an oaf flexing away across the room from you 24/7! He knows what he’s doing, and thank god my dick isn’t showing through my shorts like I thought it usually does because he might literally pounce on me then-

Ugh! I didn’t even mention this morning. I literally woke up to him jacking off his morning wood! Do you know what a bitch-fit he would have thrown if I did that! He would’ve filed a police report, probably the dweeb, or. I guess I could too?? But it was just so fucking hot. I tried to pretend I was asleep, but he totally caught me. He literally smirked and made eye contact as he finished too- thank god he didn’t see my boner as he asked if I wanted to clean up his mess. He’s such an ass!

I still have a boner now actually, it’s his B.O. driving me actually crazy! It’s like I can’t think near him if he’s going to stink this bad god.. Oh, he’s doing pullups on the door frame fuck. He’s supposed to be hairless but I see sweat dripping from his pits god I can't. God with each pull up his chest looks even more powerful. His cock is bobbing up and down in his pants and I can not look away. Fuck it’s getting even bigger. I’m supposed to be the strong one right? It’s not, fuck. This isn’t right. He just so fucking, god that body, I need him-

And Drew:

Heh. I knew that fucking twink couldn’t resist me. Every little thing I do wraps him even tighter around my finger. Every flex and smirk turns him on even more I bet he can’t even think straight the way his little dick is losing it in his briefs- I took all his jocks since I’m sure he would need them anymore. Bet the little bitch didn’t even remember they were his.

Might as well have been drooling when he saw me jacking my cock this morning lol, surprised he didn’t take me up on the offer to lick up the mess. I know he wanted to lol. He’ll get the chance soon enough though >:) God it’s a two-way street though. That fucking twink is so fuckable now, thank god he doesn’t need to shave anymore, don’t want his peachfuzz scratching my cock cause god that mouth is so fuckable now.. To say nothing of his fucking juicy ass, god! I’ve been working out in the room all morning waiting for him to give in and ask me to fuck him, idk if I can hold it in much longer. I might need to jack it again, my balls are bluer than I ever thought they could be, fuck. It’s like they're sore. Ugh I feel them getting heavier, heh, that little fucker cant resist though. God I feel precum starting to pool in my jock. If I put my pit within a foot of his face I give him five before he can’t help but shove his face in. I need to fuck him, but as if I’m going to let him see how desperate I am. Stevie that little fucker. He’ll be riding my cock any second now.

Sunday March 27th-

Stevie:

Fuck <3 !! He finally fucked me!! God, it was like nothing I’ve experienced before~ His cock was like a beer can and goddd the scratch of his beard as we were making out.. Hehe if I keep thinking about him I might just cum again right now! He can fully toss my body like a ragdoll and I’d thank him ugh! He’s just so hot, and to think he wants to fuck me!! Ah~ I’ll need to keep myself pretty so he won’t get tired of me hehe! Not that it’ll be a problem, I just need to keep on his diet, God who knew it would be this good! I don’t even remember whatever problems we had before all this and I can’t imagine anything better than getting fucked by him <3 Ah! He he~ He’s staring at my ass right now so I guess it’s time for another round! Can’t thank our R.A. enough for this idea, well he he I’ve got an idea for how to thank him, oh! Drew’s ripped off his jock! Wish me luck he he~

Drew:

My little bitch is so tight, fuck. I’m surprised he can even take my cock but god can he ride it. Gonna have a hard time taking a break from fucking him to even hit the gym. Need to make sure the twink keeps up the diet tho or we’ll have an issue. Be sure to make him come to the gym whenever I do, if not to tighten up then to watch me heh. Won’t hate fucking him in the locker room too. Mm, God his fucking tiny body makes me feel so powerful. And I fucking am. God my bis are the size of his thick thighs, fuck his ass. My cock is straining my jock just thinking about it. His tiny waist ugh, I need my sweaty body over him now. Not like he’ll mind, the horny fucker. Mmm hope he’s ready to take my cock, bet his mouth is already watering heh. Pop my pecs at him and he’ll struggle not to cum on the spot, he better keep it together until I let him though. Can’t be having my bitch blow his load that fast. Thank fuck he’s chilled out finally, though I guess my cock’ll work wonders on anyone >:) speaking of it’s about that time again. Hope he’s ready for some more action, hate to have to find another hole.

#male tf #mental change #masculinization #twinkification #jockification #straight to gay

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hanasnx · 4 months

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ermmm jj and face fucking ? 😁

MINORS DNI 18+ WARNINGS: f!reader | reader has hair that swings in a ponytail and is a kook | situationship w jj | hair pulling | oral (m receiving) NOTES: tbh i was having trouble imagining jj face fucking but i gave it my best shot and i like what i came up with | based on dwight’s interaction with angela in the office during the rabies fun run

JJ MAYBANK out with the crew when he spots you. It doesn’t take long before the others follow the source his eyes are glued on. You’re out for a jog, wearing your work-out clothes that accentuate your shape, ponytail swinging with each stride. JJ moistens and draws his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches, waiting for you to get closer while his friends jeer at him immaturely. John B pats him hard on the back, “Go, man, before she gets away.” he encourages, pushing at JJ to get him in gear.

“I’m goin’, I’m goin’.” he replies, and he hangs his head with a shake at the chorus of the crew yipping and hollering. Chasing you, he’ll admit he gets a good view of your behind. So he idles for a second to watch how your ass jiggles with each sway, and he ignores the creeping urge to tap your backside when he approaches you. He gets in a jogging stance to blend in with you, slowing his pace when he reaches your side to fall into step with you. “Howdy there, kook.”

You playfully roll your eyes with a scoff. “Hey, JJ.” you relent in a musical pant, refusing to look at him because you know he’s trying to make fun of you. You can tell in the way he holds himself, how he swings his arms, it’s an exaggerated version of what you’re doing as you run.

“You look cute as a button. Worked up quite a sweat.” he flirts, advancing into you, and you absorb his coy bump. You can feel how his gaze burns you, stuck on how your sweat drips down your neck into the valley of your cleavage. Briefly he imagines licking it off.

“Thanks, JJ.” you tell him, in the same melody as before. He butters you up a lot, you know what he’s here for. “What do you want?” you ask curiously.

“Look, there’s a little thing back at the Chateau tonight. You should, uh,” He sniffs, and swipes his nose with his knuckle, glancing away. It takes him a fraction of a second to gather the courage to invite you normally. How was a situationship supposed to act in this situation, he didn’t know. “you should come.”

You pull your lips to one side in thought. “I dun-no, Jayj, I’m supposed to meet someone tonight.” You keep your voice light and sing-songy, letting him know you’re not rejecting him, just teasing him with the prospect you might not be able to make it.

“Hey, no skin off my back.” he replies, suspending his flat hands in the air in surrender. He drops them. “You’ll just have to promise I get to wrap that pretty ponytail ‘round my palm tomorrow night.” It’s said so casually, it finally earns him a proper look from you.

You do end up going, you do end up drinking, and you do end up right where he wants you. Nestled between his legs. Rope of hair wound in his fist. “Didn’t think you’d end up back here, huh? Thought you’d be rid of me?” He’s spitballing, but there’s a twinge of sincerity, as if a pretty kook like you wouldn’t waste your time with him. He guides your head up and down, his grip on your hair stinging your scalp but you don’t mind. You like it. Sweet whimpers expel from your mouth every time your throat isn’t stuffed by the head of his cock nudging it’s way in there.

Your tongue swipes at the underside of his dick, lining the lip of his tip as it pulls out, only to be buried back in when he yanks you to his crotch by your hair. Like a leash, it leads you as he uses you to get himself off.

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beenbaanbuun · 2 months

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after sex w/ yunho

wrote this while i should’ve been getting ready for work lmaoooo

——————————————————————————

yunho groaned from where he lay beside you. “up you get, little one,” he said, voice hoarse from where he’d been barking instructions at you for the past hour or so. you pout at him, really not wanting to leave his warm embrace and face the cold word that awaited outside your bed, “don’t give me that look.”

“what look?” you furrow your brows at him.

“that one right there,” he grumbles, “the one where you look like a homocidal chihuahua - all pouty lips and angry eyebrows and not a thought between them.”

he smirks as he you slap his chest. the sound reverberates around the room and it stings a little, but yunho can take a lot more than that. he’s pretty sure his back is bleeding in more than a few places from where you’d been clawing at it. maybe you were more like a chihuahua than he originally thought.

“i think,” you argue, “i think so much!”

he hums.

“you think too much,” his eyes land on your flaming eyes and he struggles to hold back a laugh. even when you’re trying to seem intimidating, he can’t help but find you adorable. you’re like a cute puppy that has a penchant for ankle biting - your expression of frustration only made you that much more sweet, “and nothing you think about is ever relevant. face it, pipsqueak, you’re a chronic overthinker; now get up, will you?”

he has you dead to rights there, shutting you up before you can even slip another word through your lips. instead you scrunch your face up and cross your arms in one last act of defiance. you don’t want to get up, and even though you know he’ll make you, you can at least make it difficult for him.

a small shove against your shoulder is immediately followed by another one, and if yunho’s tactic is annoying you into getting up, you’re afraid he might be successful. the first two pushes are nothing you can’t live with, but then he pushes you a third time, and then a forth, and then you let out an annoyed groan. clearly yunho wasn’t going to stop any time soon.

“why do i have to get up anyway?” you say as you roll a couple of inches away from him. of course, he just follows and continues his prior annoyance on you, “i’m comfy here in your arms, and you promised we could be ‘gross and shower in the morning’.”

“we can be gross and shower tomorrow,” he replies, “but you know well and good that we pee after sex in this household, missy. being gross and sweaty for a night is completely different to getting a UTI, don’t you think?”

you mutter some expletives under your breath, because fuck him for being right. always so smart, and always so smug about it too. you give him a single petty shove back before rolling to the edge of the bed and standing up. your limbs feel heavy, and you almost wish you could rewind a few seconds and beg yunho to carry you instead. he’d probably have done it, too, but it’s too late now. with you already standing next to the bed, achy limbs and all, he’d probably just shoo you away if you asked.

you go to walk away, managing to take a single step before he grabs you by the wrist. you turn to him, noticing the sly smile he wears, and cock a brow.

“what?” you ask.

“you know what.”

“yunho, they’re covering in my cum,” you groan, “that’s so gross.”

he scoffs.

“you’re covered in your cum too, but i don’t think you’re gross.”

again, you groan. you know exactly what he’s asking for, and you know he’s not going to give up until he gets it. with a sigh and a slow, disgruntled hand, you pick your abandoned panties off of the floor and throw them at him. they hit his chest with a slap, and he can’t help but giggle to himself as he lifts them to his face and takes a sniff.

“thanks, hot stuff,” his voice is muffled by the material, “now hurry up and pee so you can come back and cuddle.”

you sigh.

“fine, but you better not have a boner when i get back!”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez headcanons #yunho fanfic #yunho scenarios #yunho x reader

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therealbatgirlishere · 4 months

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Trips in (tripin p2

recap: miles had questioned you of your appearance due to his annoyance, being curious as to why you got all dolled up.. . X x. Bby dad miles x bb ma y/n

Do not post my workings please :)

“You wearin makeup? And what’s up with yo fit and hair?” He asked, staring you up and down as he pointed.

As annoyed as you were, wanting to snap at him right then and there you just gave him a very annoyed stare before taking a deep breath then saying.

“Look, we ain’t gonna talk about this alright? Zion’s right here.” You reply, calmly staring down at your kid and stroking his locks gently. He was zoned out, staring off into space or stm. Zion just looked up and gave you his signature small smile. Showing his dimples. A flash of annoyance fell on miles face before going back to deadpan.

“Fine, alr? You can get away with it this time.” Miles responded, giving you a cold stare before looking at his kid with a slight smile. “Hijo, vámonos ahora, ¿vale?” He said to his kid warmly before putting his hand out for him.

“Ok papa.” Little Zion replied softly, his attention going to his father as he stared up at him with a smile and taking his hand, miles then picked him up with a little fake groan.

“Getting too big for papa.” He stated to his son Zion, giving him a little smile. He was a good father, or at least a decent enough one. Always tying to keep his calm around him even with his anger issues, taking responsibility for him instead of leaving like a deadbeat. (Bare minimum ong.) he even bought him toys and a whole ass tv for Zion so he can watch Bluey or some shit.

“Alright.. you two have fun. Be good for mama Zion.” You say, pinching Zion cheeks and pecking it with love. Zion let out a small squeal before nodding. Miles watched silently, giving you a blank stare before nodding.

“Adios.” Miles said before turning away and holding his son in his arms, you watched him get in the car and drive off, his engine roaring.

—————————————————————

Who the fuck did you think you were?

Dressing up, going full out. At some fucking club like a slut. Miles thought to himself, staring down at your story you posted on social media. He had just put Zion to bed in his room and was now lying down on his bed, black sheeted duvets as he was only wearing grey sweats, shirtless and annoyed. You were skulling down a bottle of tequila as your friends cheered you on, encouraging you. “Chug! Chug! Chug!” On and on. You were so beautiful though, he was captivated by your beauty as he watched you. Sure, it wasn’t exactly attractive to see a woman gulp down a bottle of tequila like it was the last thanksgiving meal but hey. It’s was you right? Your angelic face, those deep dimples showing as you grinned widely while chugging down the bottle. Zion really did have your dimples, he was a reminder of you. He could see you in Zion sometimes. The locks, his dimples, the cheeky smile he gives whenever he makes a mess. He had a lot of cute habits that you did too. (He doesn’t mean it in a weird way.) Miles let out a sigh before turning off his phone, lying down into the bed properly as his head tilted back into the soft comfy pillow. Crossing his arms as he places the blanket under his arms, he was furious. You were still his so why would you go out into the club? Maybe he’ll stop by tomorrow after dropping Zion off to school. Remind you that you don’t get to fuck around with your little friends, you better not have fucking been near any other guys too. But it was time to head for bed.

End of part 2, my hands kinda hurt 🤭. Might b smut in part 3 idk 🤷🏽‍♀️ sorry if it’s fucked up or if u can’t rlly read it I was tired n rushing

#miles morales earth 42 #miles morales x y/n #across the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales prowler #my writing #toxic relationship #toxic love #relationships #toxic people #good dad?

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sickficideas · 4 months

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start over || skk injury/sickfic

ao3! 5.9k - please refer to the tags and notes in the link for content + warnings!

Dazai is fairly certain he has a few broken ribs, but that’s not an unfamiliar feeling.

He resists the urge to run his hand over that spot on his chest. It’s sore and painful even completely untouched. He’s already gotten used to taking shallow breaths, anything deeper than that makes him cough, makes him only feel worse.

But he won’t see a doctor. He never does.

“I’ll take care of the report. You should go home,” Kunikida tells him. Dazai’s not used to the concern in his voice. They’ve been out all night and day on this case, which isn’t too unusual for them, but Dazai’s exhaustion has hit him much harder this time. It’s visible enough that Kunikida is concerned, but Dazai doesn’t think he has any idea about the condition of his ribs. “Might not be a bad idea to have Yosano check you over before you go, though.”

“She’s in Osaka, isn’t she?” Dazai asks, vaguely remembering the discussion from the night before. He yawns, the motion from his chest proving to be rather painful, but he hides it well from his partner, he thinks.

“She’ll be back tomorrow night,” Ranpo tells the two of them, always secretly listening. He looks like he’s actually busy with something at the moment, typing away on a computer.

“I’ll take you to a doctor, then,” Kunikida insists, setting his stack of reports down on the desk and rummaging through his bag for his keys.

“Nah, that’s alright. I think I’ll just go home, I feel fine,” Dazai insists, regardless of his true situation. Kunikida saw him get hit. He was thrown against a staircase during an altercation against someone who didn’t have a gift, and while Dazai can usually hold his own in a fight, there’s not much he can do against someone highly skilled in physical combat and nothing else.

“Are you sure? You got thrown pretty hard,” Kunikida says with a disapproving frown, setting his bag down.

“Yeah, yeah. It’ll probably just bruise,” Dazai says. He didn’t bring anything with him to work today other than a messenger bag, so he picks that up, and leaves his coat hanging over his chair. It’s far too hot for that today.

“If you’re sure. I’ll take you home, at least,” Kunikida insists, but Dazai waves him off before he can continue his search for his keys.

“I’ve got errands to run. I’ll do ‘em on my way home,” Dazai says. He knows Kunikida will stay here even though he’s scheduled to go home as well. He would rather get his work done than put it off.

Kunikida sighs and waves a hand as Dazai heads for the exit.

…

“He has a few broken ribs,” Ranpo says.

Kunikida lifts his head, eyes darting in Ranpo’s direction. It’s been a few minutes since Dazai left. Ranpo doesn’t elaborate, and he’s not quite sure how Ranpo could gather that just from looking at him.

“Are you sure?” Kunikida asks.

Ranpo lifts a brow. “Am I sure?”

“How do you know?” he asks.

“The way he was breathing. It’s causing him pain,” Ranpo explains as if it was obvious. “And he was hunched over by a few degrees. It’s more painful if he stands with good posture, but also when he sits down. He didn’t put his coat back on either, probably not worth it with the pain he’s in. It’s definitely his ribs.”

“Why the hell would he tell me he’s fine?” Kunikida grumbles with a heavy sigh. He can feel a headache coming on. Dazai is so incredibly -

“Well, I’m not a relationship counselor, I’m a detective. So, can’t help you there,” Ranpo shrugs.

Kunikida resists the urge to throw something at him.

…

Chuuya’s fancy penthouse it is, Dazai decides as he boards the subway.

His chest is starting to hurt a bit more. Going from standing up to sitting is slightly more painful, so he decides he’ll stand on the train instead and hold onto something at waist level to avoid unnecessary pain. He thinks he should text Chuuya that he’s heading over there, but he ends up in his own head, distracted by miscellaneous thoughts and advertisements in his view.

He almost misses the stop.

He feels his phone buzzing in his pocket, but he knows it’s Kunikida, and he doesn’t feel like answering. He’s sure Ranpo knows, he’s sure he’s told Kunikida, and answering the phone would certainly mean being harped on for not looking after his health.

Dazai understands his concern, he really does, but he’s fine. As long as he can still breathe, he would rather not see a doctor if he doesn’t have to.

The evening’s rush hour has started to calm down, thankfully. Dazai’s not sure he could handle being stuffed in a train car with that many people, especially now, but he gets out of the station unscathed and only has to endure a few minutes of walking to Chuuya’s penthouse. There’s a moment where he almost turns back around, but he’s already paid the train fare. Might as well finish what he started.

He digs through his bag for the key card he has to get to Chuuya’s floor, and he only manages to find it just when he makes it to the building. The elevator opens for him, and he ascends a few floors up to make it to Chuuya’s place. He takes in a few breaths, disappointed to find it hasn’t gotten any easier to breathe. Thankfully, Chuuya’s not as observant as his coworkers.

The elevator opens right to Chuuya’s living room after he's prompted once more to scan the key card. Normally, anyone else would have to be let in by him, but Dazai has stolen this extra key card of his to make it easier for him to get it. He doesn’t care for the extra steps.

He’s grinning when the elevator door opens to Chuuya almost half-dressed and sitting on his couch with a glass of wine, wide-eyed and not very happy to see company.

“Did you steal my fuckin’ key card again, Mackerel?” Chuuya grumbles, standing up from his spot on the couch to take his remote and pause the TV. He’s watching some brainless reality TV like he usually does, that’s no surprise, but Dazai’s at the point where he wouldn’t even mind watching it with him.

“You should wear that more often,” Dazai hums as he hangs his bag on Chuuya’s silly hat rack, something he knows Chuuya hates, but has given up reprimanding Dazai for. He sees Chuuya’s face redden a little at that comment. It’s an almost-too-small tank top he’s wearing with a baggy pair of sweatpants, but he’s got some nice-looking arms. He likes seeing them.

“You always scare the crap out of me when you show up like this,” Chuuya groans, obviously trying to change the subject. “I told you to text me when you’re coming.”

“Wanted to surprise you,” Dazai jokes, but he’s lost the energy to put any sort of teasing tone into his voice. He trudges over to the couch to sit down, slower than he normally would and carefully as he sinks down, trying to avoid making any grunts to show he’s still in pain.

Chuuya, though, isn’t as stupid as Dazai thinks he is. “You okay?”

Dazai’s still staring at his arms. “Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Stop looking at me like I have a pair of tits. You’re gross,” Chuuya grumbles, marching over to the kitchen. Dazai pouts, staring at the still-paused television, with no will or energy to get up to unpause it himself.

“Slug, can you unpause it?” Dazai asks, turning his head to watch Chuuya, who has taken his phone from the kitchen counter and sat at the bar, typing away.

“Do it yourself,” Chuuya huffs. “You want somethin' to eat?”

“‘M okay,” Dazai says. He should probably eat, but he’s never really hungry.

“I’m ordering food anyway. You like Chinese food, right?” Chuuya asks.

“Uh-huh,” Dazai nods, turning his head back to stare at the television, which has already moved to the idle screen. Dazai thinks he was watching a singing competition show, which isn’t nearly as bad as his usual choices.

Dazai sinks back into the couch and manages to snake one of the throw blankets over himself, feeling a little cold. He hears Chuuya muttering in the kitchen, always weirdly polite when he’s on the phone, ordering much more than the two of them could finish together.

He breathes in and breathes out a few times, realizing that not only is it not getting better, it almost feels worse. He’s having to take more shallow breaths. Maybe it would be a good idea to at least let Chuuya know, just in case Dazai suddenly can’t breathe anymore, but he’s certain Chuuya won’t handle news of broken ribs very well.

Chuuya returns with a shirt and pajama pants that Dazai left here ages ago, because obviously nothing Chuuya owns will fit Dazai’s tall frame. He lays the clothes over the side of the couch and clicks his tongue when Dazai’s eyes drift over to him.

“You look exhausted,” Chuuya murmurs.

“‘M fine. How long till the food gets here? I’m hungry,” Dazai huffs.

“Now you’re hungry, huh? Geez," Chuuya mutters to himself. "Change into these before you get on my bed.”

Dazai is well aware that he's not allowed to wear outside clothes in Chuuya’s bed and resists the urge to make a comment about the more serious topic of Chuuya's undiagnosed OCD in favor of getting closer to time in a bed. Chuuya's mattress is fantastic. Money can't buy happiness, but it can buy mattresses that give him the most rested sleep of his life. Maybe he can lay down for a little before the food gets here. He just needs to relax, he’s fine.

Chuuya starts to wander off again.

“Slug,” Dazai whines. “What are you doing now?”

“I needa do laundry. You wanna help, or keep up your freeloader lifestyle?” Chuuya calls as he walks off. Dazai doesn’t have the energy to shout back at him. Dazai realizes he didn’t make any solid plans at all to hang out with Chuuya, and that the latter has things he needs to do too, but he wishes he would use his absorbent amounts of money to hire someone to do his laundry for him.

Dazai, instead, starts to change into the clothes Chuuya brought out for him. The sweat pants are easy to slide on as he’s sitting down. It doesn’t hurt his chest too much at all. Taking off his collared shirt and vest isn’t too difficult either, he doesn’t have to pull anything over his head with the buttons, but he realizes he’ll have to with the shirt.

He puts that off, realizing he needs to change out his bandages, too. What a pain in the ass.

“Slug,” Dazai murmurs as he approaches Chuuya’s laundry room. He’s wearing a cardigan all of a sudden. Chuuya always puts something on as soon as it comes out of the dryer, he likes how warm it is. It’s cute. “Do you have bandages I can use anywhere?”

Chuuya finishes folding up a shirt before he looks at Dazai peering in the doorway, his eyes drifting down to his bandages. Dazai suddenly feels nauseous. He knows Chuuya has seen his skin without the bandages, he knows Chuuya doesn’t care, but he hates it. He hates it so much it makes him feel sick.

“Dazai, you know that I don’t -”

Chuuya stops when his eyes meet Dazai’s expression, probably on track to say something about how he doesn’t care about what’s underneath his bandages, but Dazai doesn’t want to have that conversation right now. He just wants to change the bandages so he’s clean enough to lay in Chuuya’s bed.

“There’s some left in the bathroom next to my bedroom. Second highest shelf on the right,” Chuuya says quietly, turning his attention back to folding his remaining articles of clothing.

Dazai wanders over to Chuuya’s bedroom with the shirt he’s supposed to put on folded over his arm, and he locks the door behind him, even with the knowledge that Chuuya can open it whenever he wants.

He starts to peel off the bandages, and he winces at the side of the deep purple bruise blooming over his ribs. That doesn’t look good at all. He doesn’t usually bruise like that. He runs his fingers over the spot, shivering at how his skin feels under the touch of his hand. He’s not sure any of that is real. He thinks he might have a fever. He’s overly sensitive to touch when he’s running a temperature, even at his own hands. But whether or not the fever is from his possible damaged ribs or just exhaustion, he won’t know until later, probably.

He lazily washes his face and runs a damp washcloth over his upper body, anywhere that’s reachable and doesn’t hurt to get to, before he dries off with a dry towel. He should probably shower, but he definitely can’t do that without it hurting right now. He does, however, hold that wet washcloth up to his face. It feels so good. He wonders if ducking his face into a sink filled with water would feel better than this. Maybe he’d drown while he’s at it, too.

But Chuuya’s sink is too low. He’d have to bend over a ton and that would hurt too much. He’s not in the business for a painful suicide.

He starts to wrap his arms back up, deciding to only wrap his neck and arms, and letting the t-shirt do the rest of the covering. He can’t lift up enough to get high on his chest, and it’s too much twisting around his body. He stares down the t-shirt that he’s set on the counter with a deep sigh. He just needs to rip it off like a bandaid. Pull it over his head. It can’t hurt too bad if he’s fast.

Only, it does. It hurts so much that he can’t even pull it over his head. He lowers his arms back down and whines, throwing his head back against the door. It’s so bad that it’s making him nauseous, although he’s not sure if he was feeling sick before that. His chest rattles when he takes in a breath, and he spits phlegm into the sink.

Bad sign.

"What's takin' so long?" Chuuya puffs from outside the door. Dazai almost jumps. He didn’t think he was in here for all that long, but apparently long enough. Dammit, if he opens the door and asks for help, Chuuya will see the bruise on his chest. But it’ll hurt too much to cover it, and then he’ll take even longer.

"Chuuya needs to help me put this on," he murmurs as he unlocks the door, the shirt still pulled up to the sleeves.

"What's wrong, you sore? I have ones that button from the front, if that's easier," Chuuya says, walking off to the closet before he even sees Dazai. “You guys do some crazy stuff today?”

“I got thrown against the stairs,” Dazai groans, leaning against the door frame from the inside, Chuuya’s footsteps approaching again. His arm comes in through the crack of the door with a shirt that buttons from the front, thank god, and his arm disappears once Dazai takes the shirt. He narrowly avoided a confrontation.

“Ow. You get hurt bad?” Chuuya asks, staying outside the door as Dazai shuts it again.

“No, just…sore, like you said,” Dazai manages with a little pained groan as he slips his arms through the sleeves, buttoning the front of the shirt.

“Good. That shit can really suck,” Chuuya huffs. “Actually, I saw Akutagawa curb-stomp a guy on a staircase the other day. Seriously brutal.”

Good to know Akutagawa hasn’t lost any of his violent tendencies, but he finds himself shivering at the idea of curb-stomping someone. Strange how much things have changed. Maybe it's just because of how he feels right now.

Once Dazai finishes buttoning up the shirt, he trudges over to Chuuya’s bedroom, deciding he’ll just lie down for a while as they wait for their food, but the nausea that’s starting to settle in his stomach is making him want to pass up the idea of food.

Dazai decides to just lay down on his side. Chuuya almost wanders out of the room, but he stops and turns around once he’s realized Dazai is lying down. He frowns.

"My tummy hurts," he mumbles.

"You probably haven't eaten all damn day,” Chuuya huffs. Dazai can’t deny that. He’s pretty sure he didn’t eat anything more than a snack yesterday, either, but he won’t admit it to Chuuya. He just whines to himself. “But I’ll get you some Pepto or something if it’ll help you feel better.”

Dazai isn’t sure that will do much for him, but Chuuya is already off to the kitchen before Dazai has anything to say about it. He forces himself to sit up, up and off Chuuya’s too-comfy mattress before he lays a hand on his chest. A deep breath almost has him in tears, he’s wincing so hard that the moment makes it hurt more. It feels like a knife is stuck between his ribs and he thinks if he takes a breath like that again, he’ll throw up. Not a good sign, even worse with how swimmy his head feels once it’s off the mattress.

Chuuya returns with a little medicine cup full of Pepto Bismol and Dazai doesn’t even have the energy to give him a reassuring smile, because it’s obvious that Chuuya is concerned, no matter how much he tries to hide it. His eye twitches as he approaches him, and he reaches a hand up to his cheek. Dammit.

"Shit, Dazai," Chuuya murmurs as he pulls his hand back. "Why the hell are you so hot?"

Dazai wants to make a joke, it's such a good opportunity to, but he can't. He feels awful. He’s considering making himself throw up, but he knows that’s not even remotely related to the root of his problem.

"Tell me what happened," Chuuya growls.

"It's just a few broken ribs," Dazai says quietly, but he’s finding it to be quite painful to even speak right now. He brings his hand back up to his chest.

“I’m calling one of our doctors over,” Chuuya hisses as he sets the cup of medicine on the nightstand.

Dazai freezes at the mere suggestion of that.

“No, Chuuya. Please,” he says, his breath hitching halfway through. His brain is flooded with awful things he doesn’t want to consider. “They’ll report to Mori.”

Chuuya stops in his tracks, his shoulders dropping at the last word Dazai speaks.

Dazai knows he's being paranoid. Realistically, Mori can't get to him anymore. Chuuya would never let him, he doesn't think anyone would, but none of them know the half of what Mori did to him. He would gladly use any opportunity to treat his body like a cadaver, wouldn’t he? Even now?

Even if he wouldn’t, Dazai is so paranoid about it that he’s losing his composure, and that's the problem.

He leans over the bed and gags into his hand, fully expecting to throw up, but it’s just saliva that’s pooled in his mouth. He keeps his hand under his mouth just in case, but now the nausea is pushed to the back of his mind, his brain focused on how much his current posture is hurting his lungs.

“Shit, hey. I won’t call our doctors,” Chuuya murmurs quietly, a gentle but cautious hand landing on Dazai’s shoulder. “Well…what about that doctor at your agency? Can’t she help you?”

“She’s in Osaka,” Dazai recalls. He winces at the concern in Chuuya’s voice. “I’m…I’m fine.”

“Fucking hell, Dazai, you’re not fine,” Chuuya huffs. His voice shakes. Dazai should have known that Chuuya is just as protective as Kunikida, if not worse. He can’t kind from any of them. “I’ll just - I’ll take you to a hospital.”

“You can’t just walk into a hospital, Chuuya," Dazai laughs dryly. He shivers at the thought of going to a hospital, but it’s a far better idea than being found by Mori. It doesn’t make him gag, at least.

“I don’t fucking give a fuck,” Chuuya growls. “You know how serious broken ribs can get, especially if you already have a fucking fever. You’ve probably got an infection. Why the hell would they just let you go home?”

Dazai wants to tell him that they let him go home because he didn't tell anyone he was injured. He doesn't like bothering them if he doesn't have to, and honestly, he prefers to avoid medical treatment of any kind altogether if he can. He was just trying to see how long he could go avoiding it.

"I'm gonna call a taxi and take you downstairs," Chuuya breathes out, turning on his heel and heading back for the kitchen to find his phone.

Dazai is left with his own brain, which is incredibly dangerous. He groans from the pain he’s in, and he’s trying not to think too hard about needing to go to a hospital. Maybe they can just sedate him before they do anything. He’d much prefer that. Is that an option?

He lays down on his side and curls up into a ball, but he doesn’t feel any better, it’s getting harder to breathe and that nauseous feeling won’t go away either, and it comes back with a vengeance. He forces his head up because he knows something is going to come up out of his throat, and he does feel a tiny bit guilty about getting it on Chuuya’s bed, but he can’t avoid it.

Dazai can't breathe. He's not entirely sure what he's coughing up. Foam, phlegm, vomit, maybe some blood, maybe a little bit of everything. He's seen Akutagawa do this on several occasions, actually, but he's never experienced it himself, so he's almost certain this has something to do with his lungs. Maybe the broken shards of his ribcage have poked holes into his lungs.

Oh god, he really can't breathe.

Chuuya's talking to him, but he can't hear a word. He hears his own name, he thinks, but all he can focus on is the sharp, unbelievable pain in his chest.

…

“It sounds to me like he has a lung infection, Dazai,” Mori says to him, expectant. He was waiting for Dazai to agree, to hand his subordinate over and let Mori take care of the rest. But even at seventeen, Dazai was smart enough to know Mori’s true intentions.

“Oh yeah? You’re a doctor now?” Dazai jokes. He’s stalling, only in Mori’s office to take a book or two out of his library that Hirotsu mentioned he needed for something he was working on. Akutagawa is outside the office, waiting. He’s coughing every now and then, coughs that really don’t sound good and that Dazai is well aware of, but he won’t hand him over to Mori.

“Come now, Dazai. Don’t let your subordinates suffer on account of your stubborn nature,” Mori teases.

“I’m not letting anyone suffer, Mori. A little cough never killed anyone,” Dazai says back, mocking that same teasing tone as he pulls out the last book he needs, but when he turns around, he realizes Mori had plans of his own. Elise was busy opening the door to the office and taking Akutagawa’s arm to lead him inside.

Akutagawa looks to Dazai, unsure of what’s going on, what he’s been brought in for, and Dazai is frozen. Dazai has been trying to limit their contact as much as humanly possible, and Mori seems to have become aware of that.

“My, don’t you look awful. How long have you had this cough for?” Mori asks him as Elise drags him closer, but Akutagawa resists the closer he’s brought into Mori’s frame of view. Dazai shakes. He’s been looking for a way to have Akutagawa seen by a doctor that Mori wouldn’t know about, but it’s nearly impossible. It’s something he’s been trying to do for himself, too, and he still hasn’t figured out how to do it. How to get one step ahead of Mori.

“Don’t answer him. We’re leaving,” Dazai growls, glaring at Akutagawa so he knows he’s serious, and Akutagawa shrinks back, still dead silent. Dazai takes Elise’s arm to pull her off of Dazai, and she disappears as soon as they make contact.

“Dazai, really? That wasn’t very nice of you,” Mori huffs. “It’s cruel of you to let your subordinates suffer. You know I would never want that for you, don’t you?”

Dazai takes Akutagawa’s arm and pulls him toward the exit, ignoring Mori’s words. Akutagawa is rightfully confused, but Dazai doesn’t need him to have any more information than he already does. He closes the door behind the two of them, and Akutagawa pulls his arm up to cough into his elbow. Dazai hears his chest rattle. He’s undoubtedly got a fever, too.

“Don’t ever go to him for any of this. Understand? I don’t care what he says,” Dazai bites, audibly frustrated and maybe a little scared, but Akutaagwa can’t pick up on the second half.

“I know,” Akutagawa answers, voice hoarse, “you’ve told me already.”

“Just making sure you listened. You’re not very good at that.” Dazai huffs, leading him down the corridor and back to the elevator.

Akutagawa looks like he’s ready to retort that claim, but he starts coughing again, into his hand, this time - blood and foam coating his palm, visibly startling him, too. He needs to see a doctor, he might even need to go to a hospital, Dazai doesn’t know the extent of his infection at all, but this isn’t normal.

Akutagawa trips when they pass the threshold of the elevator, clearly his head isn’t where it’s supposed to be - he catches himself on his hands and knees and the coughing only gets worse, bright red blood splattering on the marble elevator floor. He takes in shaky and unsteady breaths in between. Dazai just spends a few seconds staring. What the hell is he supposed to do about this?

Akutagawa collapses completely after one heavy breath seems to take all of his remaining energy out of him, and Dazai only thinks about how lucky he is that this happened here, and not in front of Mori. He just stares at his shaking form as they descend the building, and Dazai needs to have a game plan of what to do once they reach the bottom.

“Dazai,” Akutagawa barely manages to breathe out, making a pathetic attempt to get off of the floor, only to crash back down into it. Dazai kneels down beside him. He can’t even carry Akutagawa. Who does he call? What does he do?

“I know. Give me a few hours to figure it out,” Dazai murmurs.

Anyone but Mori. Akutagawa can’t go through what Dazai went through.

…

When Dazai wakes up, he’s stuck in a hospital room, the sterile smell of it all only reminding him how nauseous he is.

He imagines he’s been asleep for quite a while, but he doesn’t feel well-rested at all. He’s never felt that way after a hospital visit. It’s the pain medications they pump him full of, he thinks - they’re the only reason he’s slept at all, probably.

But he can breathe a little easier. There’s a mask over his nose and mouth, probably not a good sign.

There’s a nurse in the room with him, looking surprised to see his eyes meeting hers. She says something to him but Dazai doesn’t have any idea what she’s saying. The mask she’s wearing makes it impossible to even guess. She seems to jot down his vital signs before she scurries out of the room.

He realizes what she was saying to him when Chuuya comes trailing in through the door, his hair tucked into a beanie that doesn't suit him and wearing a hoodie, a black mask and a pair of fake glasses.

If Dazai had the energy to laugh right now, he would probably do it until he couldn’t breathe anymore. Chuuya doesn’t look all that ridiculous, it’s a decent disguise in practice, but it’s hilarious all the same. Only because Dazai knows Chuuya.

A shaky hand of his reaches up to pull down the mask, and Chuuya almost pulls it back over his face once he’s at Dazai’s bedside, but the nurse gives a little nod. She says something to him before she leaves the room, but the sound is muffled.

Chuuya’s voice, though, is as clear as a bell.

“You look like shit,” Chuuya mumbles, brushing his hair back and out of his face, pulling off his own mask once the nurse is out of the room. Not the first thing Dazai wants to hear when he wakes up, but it’s Chuuya.

“You look stupid,” Dazai retorts, his voice so hoarse it almost sounds like he’s lost it completely. He wants to clear his throat, but has a feeling that won’t make him feel any better.

Chuuya grumbles something under his breath before he pulls off the beanie and pushes the glasses up on top of his head, and Dazai’s never been so glad to see that annoyingly bright colored hair before. He’s really kind of gorgeous. Maybe it’s the drugs making him think that.

"I'm sorry I left you," Chuuya murmurs, reaching over to squeeze the hand that’s free from an IV. "I know you hate places like this."

Dazai's a little unsure of what to say. Chuuya's not the type to get so candid with him, and while Dazai truly does despise being in hospitals, he doesn't remember ever telling Chuuya that directly. Then again, his memory of the past has been hazy. He doesn't even remember much of anything after losing his breath on Chuuya's bedroom. For all he knows, Chuuya could have been with him the whole time.

"I'm an adult now, you know," Dazai teases, flashing a weak smile.

Chuuya rolls his eyes. "Not what I'm talking about. But whatever."

"It's fine, slug," Dazai tells him. It’s not nearly as bad of a fear as it used to be for him. He knows that sometimes it’s unavoidable. He knows he doesn't have to worry about Mori anymore, at least not while in the care of the Armed Detective Agency.

“You scared the shit out of me. Seriously,” Chuuya mumbles. “You’re staying with me for a while once you’re discharged.”

“I have to go back to work,” Dazai whispers. Sure, it’s not the working part he’s concerned with, but he really should pop in every now and then at the very least, so that they know he’s alive. Before Kunikida decides to end his life prematurely.

“Since when you do give a shit about that?" Chuuya groans, squeezing his hand a little tighter. "They're the reason you're in this mess in the first place, aren’t they?”

Dazai’s stomach drops at the notion, because that’s really not the truth. He simply lied to them, just like he lied to Chuuya. It’s what he always does. It has nothing to do with any of them.

They probably would've taken good care of him, too.

“Mm…I think you've got it all wrong, little Slug,” Dazai says, feeling himself start to doze off again. He's exhausted and doesn't particularly feel like explaining any of that to him, even though he's sure Chuuya would at least consider it.

“Don't call me little, you ass,” Chuuya grumbles, squeezing his hand a little tighter, “I'm taking you back to my apartment once you're discharged. End of story.”

Dazai's eyelids start to feel heavy, and he doesn't fight Chuuya's demand. He can always sneak out if he needs to.

But maybe he'll be okay with Chuuya looking after him, for a while.

…

A week later, Dazai thinks he's well enough to slip out of Chuuya's apartment early one morning, to pop into the Agency.

“Healing well from your broken ribs, Dazai?” Ranpo says as he happens to wander past him just as soon as Dazai enters the building.

“Can't keep any secrets from you, can I, Ranpo?” Dazai says, only sounding a little nervous because he can feel Kunikida glaring at him all the way from his desk. It seems the two of them are the only ones here so far, like usual. At least Atsushi isn't here to witness Dazai's inevitable death at Kunikida's hands.

“You know I don't normally air out everything you try to hide, but Kunikida already wants to kill you,” Ranpo says casually on his way back to his desk. “Figured it doesn't matter what I say.”

“Morning, Kunikida,” Dazai says as cheerfully as he can, but Kunikida has already hurled a pretty heavy report collection his way, one that Dazai's head just narrowly misses. He brings his heads up to his face in surrender.

“Don't morning me, Dazai. Where the hell have you been? Obviously you were injured, and I haven’t heard from you in over a week -”

“Aww, Kunikida, were you worried about me?” Dazai teases. His eyes dart over to Ranpo blissfully ignoring everything happening before him, wondering why he didn't give Kunikida his whereabouts when he could have easily figured out where he's been hiding. He just smiles, though. Ranpo keeps hidden what Dazai doesn't want everyone to know about.

“I'm one more incident away from putting a tracker in that damn bolo tie,” Kunikida grumbles, somehow managing to get past his anger and sit back down in his chair. He grumbles something that Dazai doesn't quite understand. He feels safe enough to approach his own desk, and sit across from Kunikida.

“What was that?” Dazai asks, tilting his head.

“Are you okay?” Kunikida says, straightening up a stack of reports on his desks with a heavy huff.

“I'm okay,” Dazai says with a half smile. “No need to worry your pretty little head about me, Kunikida. You know the universe won't let me die.”

“That's not the point, Dazai,” Kunikida grumbles, almost reminiscent of a comment Chuuya made to him at the hospital. These two always insist on worrying over him. “Tell me next time you're hurt. At least send me a damn text so I know you're not bleeding out in a ditch somewhere.”

“Well, I could be, regardless of the contents of whatever text I might send you,” Dazai teases, and Kunikida looks like he might throw the pen he's holding right at Dazai's head, but he refrains.

“Get to work. You still need to finish that report,” Kunikida grumbles, tossing him a blue folder.

“I thought you said you'd finish it for me,” Dazai says, lifting up his head as the door opens, revealing Atsushi and Kyoka, both looking surprised to see him. Atsushi rushes past everyone else as Dazai smiles at him.

“No, you pissed me off. I started it, you do the rest,” Kunikida sighs just before Atsushi sits beside him and starts a string of worried questions and assumptions that Dazai only half listens to, only watches his eyes. Chuuya really does have them wrong, they would never want him in that situation.

Chuuya would definitely like Atsushi, with how much he likes Akutagawa. He might even get along with Kunikida. Chuuya joining them for dinner sometime is some faraway ridiculous fantasy that he could only ever see Oda suggesting, and he just smiles to himself.

“Are you even listening?” Atsushi sighs.

“Sorry, sorry,” Dazai says. “Start over?”

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misosick · 7 months

Text

dirty little secret - you're the only one who needs to know | bang chan

pairing: bang chan x reader, ??? x reader

genre: uni!au, predebut/idol!au, manager!reader, slow burn

chapter warnings: crying,

word count: 1.2k-ish

author notes: wow... only took me 2 years to finish this. thank u all for the love and support for this, epilogue coming soon w/ the sappy shit every writer does xoxo

taglist: @idunnomanmynamewastaken @freyaniobe @jellyglly @stepout-09-15 @moremilkforkags (send me an ask if you would like to be added!)

Chan sits there in shock. The last time you called him Chris to his face was when you were shouting at him to get out of your house. Sure, you had written it on the note to him, but he couldn’t help but feel his heart jump as he hears it. Tears fill his eyes as he listens to you recall how he treated you when you started at the company, and he readies himself for the biggest heartbreak of his life. Except, it never came. A wave of relief washes over him, and Chan breaks down.

He didn’t deserve you, yet here you are, telling him that you still had feelings for him. Your arms open for him to fall into, and he falls into your shoulder as sobs wrack through his body. Your hand threads through his hair, comforting him in a way you had done back in Australia. The two of you sit there for what seems like hours, as Chan continues to thank you and apologise.

His breathing steadies, and he sits back up as you hand him a few tissues. You laugh a little at his puffy eyes and red nose, but he’s never looked so handsome.

“Thank you, y/n, seriously, thank you.” Chan smiles, sniffling a little. He knows he’s in for the ride of his life, but he’ll go to the moon and back if it means he has you by his side.

You aren’t easy on him. At all. Before you and Chris, the couple, there’s you and him, manager and artist – and the first awards show was mere weeks away. As much as you’d like to, there’s just no time to rebuild your relationship when there were new dance breaks to rehearse, stage mixes to be sent to the various events and stylists to co-ordinate stage outfits with. It’s the worst time to even be thinking about your relationship with Chris.

But, it’s perhaps the best time for Felix and Jisung to walk into your office, carrying a gift basket containing iced coffee, snacks and a folded piece of paper nestled in the front. The other boys didn’t know yet, but Jisung and Felix figured it out almost immediately after your conversation with Chris. You seemed happier to see the boys every day, he started working on more love songs in his free time – something must have gone right, right? At least they were kind enough to act as the secret messenger while you tested the waters.

“Oh, Y/N~! Your not-so-secret admirer has sent you a gift~!” Jisung waltzes over to your desk, setting down the gift basket as Felix places an energy drink right next to it (a personal gift from him). You laugh as you open the energy drink, taking a sip and sighing happily.

“Did he now? I wonder who it might be?” You take another sip and you motion them to sit down. Skimming over the note quickly, you smile to yourself as you move the basket to another part of your desk so you can lean over and talk to the two men sitting in your office. It’d become a habit for them to stay and gossip whenever they came by to drop off care packages from your not-yet boyfriend.

“I have a meeting with Minhye tomorrow confirming where I’m getting transferred, you know, conflict of interest and all,” you roll your eyes at your own comment. In all honesty, you were surprised the company didn’t fire you or put Chris on hiatus when you told them about your budding relationship – or the history behind it. You must have proven yourself enough for them to want to keep you on in some capacity, and you were grateful.

“We’ll still get to come see you, right?” Felix sat up, eyes wide in anticipation.

“Of course! I’m pretty sure I’ll be moving to Itzy’s management team, so I’ll still be around. Chris will still need his messengers.” You wink at the pair, laughing as they cringe at the thought of him spending hours on these gifts, stressing over the contents of the note when they know you’d be happy with just a ‘make sure you take a break’.

“When do we get to stop sneaking around, huh? I don’t know how much longer I can keep this a secret!” Jisung leaned back into the couch. You and Chris were having way too much fun at his expense.

“I mean… we could do it now? Tell the boys? I guess they deserve to know why their leader’s been so into love songs recently.” Felix and Jisung’s faces light up, and suddenly the phones were out to round everyone up for an impromptu meeting. Chris had mentioned telling them a couple of weeks ago; you told him you weren’t ready, and that you’d let him know when you were. But, you’d have to tell them why you were being transferred eventually.

The nine of you were sat in a circle in the middle of a practice room. Chris holds your hand in his lap, playing with your rings. Jisung and Felix trying to hold back their giggles, everyone else is quietly muttering to themselves. You turn to Chris, giving him a quick nod before taking a deep breath.

“Okay, so, I have some news to share. I am no longer going to be managing you guys.” The room falls silent. Jeongin’s eyes start to glaze over, Changbin’s sitting there in shock, Hyunjin and Minho let out a gasp.

“What?! Why? Did you resign?! Are you moving home?!?” Seungmin asks every single question the group had, and you can’t help but laugh as his frantic search for answers.

“No, Seungmin, oh my god, everyone chill out. I will be transferring to another group, not confirmed yet, but I’ll still be in the building.” The room erupts into laughter at the joke, instantly desolving the previous tension.

“So, if you aren’t leaving the company, why are you leaving us?” Jeongin’s voice wobbled a little, and you feel terrible. You’d grown close to him, viewing him as a younger brother of sorts, you reach over and grab his hand, squeezing it before Changbin wraps an arm around him.

“I… how do I explain this… I promise you I’m not going anywhere. You’ll see me just as much, if not more, isn’t that right, Chris?” You turn to him, smiling widely as everyone slowly realises the underlying context of what you’ve just said.

The once quiet practice room erupts into a sea of cheers, as you and Chris are all but tackled to the ground. You swear you see Hyunjin sigh and pull some notes out of his pocket to hand to Minho, who is busy dancing around celebrating his win.

“Noona! You worried me! I was gonna cry! You should’ve said the good news first!” Jeongin’s arms are wrapped tightly around your shoulders while Chris is inundated with taps on the shoulder and congratulatory messages. You can’t help but smile in relief. Felix and Jisung look just as relieved, happy to know they won’t be responsible for keeping your relationship with their leader a secret anymore. A soft kiss to the back on your hand reminds you that Chris was still next to you, and that everything was going to work out eventually.

#chris bang #skz #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #skz fluff #skz angst #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #dirty little secret

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leewritestoomuch · 2 months

Note

Hello! ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა

First, can I say that you are absolutely awesome for the Dr. Stone request! 💕

I was wondering if I could possibly have an NSFW for Ukyo x reader with a hint of Gen x reader, where Ukyo been trying to confess to (y/n) for the longest time and can’t seem to muster up the courage to do so and what finally pushes him to do so is Gen mentioning to Senku that he might confess to (y/n), so Ukyo looks for (y/n) only to find her in the hot springs and things get steamy.

A million thank yous!

ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

Hot Springs- Ukyo x Reader

Hiiii thank you for the request!

Warnings: NSFW, Unprotected intercourse, p in v, doing it while in water.

Ukyo x fem! Reader. (Gen x fem! Reader if you squint and grab a magnifying glass)

He hadn’t ever found the right timing. Something is always in his way; hunting, the work Senku gives him, somebody talking to you or him, etc. There just was no opening. At least, that’s what he tells himself to make himself feel better, but deep down, he knows he’s being a coward.

Everyday he watches you walk around, talk to the others, and he admires you. He admires you deeper than any friend would, respectfully, of course. Every time your lips curve into a smile, he just can’t help but smile too, and maybe blush a little. When you talk, he listens. He can always pick your voice out.

And luckily for him, in this situation, he can pick up on others voices well too. When the sound of Gen telling Senku that he’ll confess he’s got feelings for you tomorrow, his heart drops.

He thinks about backing off and letting Gen go after you, as he just doesn’t want to step on anyone’s toes. But, it eats away at him. He just can’t stand the thought of watching the two of you together. And, unlike him, he impulsively rushes to find you.

He knew you went up the mountain for some materials, so he quickly follows the path he’d often take with you when he tagged along. After a while, he gets to the top of the mountain.

He regrets his decisions immediately when he sees you sitting on the edge of the hot springs, unclothed. You haven’t noticed him yet, and he doesn’t know what to do about that.

Walk away? Make his presence known, possibly embarassing you? Wait and if you notice he’ll be pinned as a creep?

Luckily for him, you look up and meet his eyes. Quickly, you squeak and hide yourself in the water. Ukyo apologizes, but awkwardly approaches.

“Um… sorry, but may I join you?” He’s not meeting your eyes anymore, and he’s definitely blushing, but the heat from the hot springs below where he’s standing cover that up.

You nod and turn around so he can take off his clothes, and you wait until you hear him get in the water before turning around.

“Why’d you come out here?” You ask, leaning against the stone wall of the hot spring. Your arms are up on the wall, pulling yourself up a bit, so the water is barely covering your breasts now. You don’t seem to realize, but he gulps hard, trying to keep his thoughts respectful and in line.

“I was looking for you.” He answers, much too quickly. He realizes he shouldn’t have said that. This was a rare time that he doesn’t think through his words, and he has a feeling it’ll come back to bite him.

“Oh, really? Why’d you come looking for me?” You tilt your head a little, brows furrowed a little in confusion.

“You went out alone. I was just coming to help out in case you needed anything.” He says, not looking at you for most of it, but smiling at you at the end. “It’s safer together.”

You nod, and then it’s silent for a little while. Ukyo mentally weighs his options, and realizes he’ll just do it now, against his better judgement.

“Y/N, can I tell you something?” He asks, already feeling like a high schooler confessing his love. It makes him chuckle a little bit.

“Hmm? Sure. What is it?” You hum, smiling.

“Y/N, I have feelings for you.” He says sternly, and your heart jumps and skips about 6 beats.

“Ukyo, I have feelings for you too.” You blush, smiling at him.

The two of you inch closer to each other slowly, and nervously, your lips meet softly. And maybe it’s the heat from the hot spring, or maybe something else, but the kiss heats up. He doesn’t mean for it to, but he’s half hard and already affected by you. It’s not like you’re much better, practically drooling over what you could see of his body.

So now his hands carefully dare to go lower than the water line, and your hands boldly feel up his chest, abs, and hips. You don’t dare to let your hand go any lower.

The kiss quickly went from innocent to tongues shoved into each other’s mouths, struggling to breathe, and hands feeling each other up. Out of some stroke of boldness, you grind against him. And suddenly your back is against the stone wall as the two of you desperately grind against each other, the water making the friction more intense. His lips leave yours to nibble on your ear, then bite at your neck. He leaves hickeys in his wake as he moves down to your chest, staying above the water.

“I’m sorry… if I’m going too far.” Ukyo says, looking up at you. You quickly shake your head.

“No, keep going.” You look hungry, the fire in your eyes burning for something more than this.

His hand makes its way between your legs, rubbing small circles on your clit. You gasp, clinging on to his shoulders. He keeps rubbing his hand in circles as you begin to come undone in his arms. He can’t help but think you look beautiful like this. A whole new beautiful he’s never even seen before, though he knew you were beautiful, of course.

“Ukyo… please just put it in.”

“My fingers?” He asks, poking at your entrance with two fingers. You shake your head quickly.

“No.” And he realizes, nodding. He breathes for a second before lining himself up.

“Ready baby?” He asks, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers with his. You nod, and he takes that as he can make a move. He slowly pushes in, stretching your walls a bit as he does. The water makes the friction feel dryer, making it a bit more painful that it should have, but you make it through.

When he bottoms out, you both wait a minute, just heavily breathing with your eyes closed. When he opens his eyes, he strokes your cheek with his thumb, “Is it okay if I move?”

“Yeah, just go slow for a second.” You nod, squeezing his hand. He nods back, beginning to move his hips back, before pushing back in. He finds a rhythm quickly, tip kissing your cervix and length grazing your g-spot with each thrust.

With his hand that isn’t holding yours, he begins to rub your clit again. Both of you elicit low moans, hips clashing desperately. With each thrust, you make a noise; his name, a moan, a whimper. He’s realizing the noises are spurring him on. He makes some noises himself, not entirely silent. He just can’t help it, the moans slipping past his lips.

His thrusts get harder, and you buck your hips up to meet them. Your legs begin to shake a little, finding it hard to stand, so the hand that was holding yours moves to support you. His thrusts speed up as he gets closer to the edge. Your moans pick up, indicating you’re close too.

“Fuck… ugh, I’m gonna cum.” He whispers, hips desperately thrusting into you now, but not losing his rhythm. He doesn’t want to change anything for you.

“Ukyo.” You breathe out a moan of his name. “Me too…”

“Should I pull out?” He asks, and you nod quickly. He nods back to let you know he hears you.

Your walls clench and pulse around him, and he feels then gush on his cock. This sends him over the edge, quickly pulling out and cumming into the water.

You both pant for air, still entangled together for a while. And in this comfortable moment, he realizes his confession went well.

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bisamwilson · 1 year

Text

Sam bustles around the kitchen, cleaning off counters he’d deep cleaned two days ago, grabbing dishes out of the dishwasher that really could wait until tomorrow morning, putting some elbow grease into trying to get out the stubborn spot on their stove that’s been there since they moved in and that Bucky’s not sure will ever go away. They’ve been home from their last mission about a sum total of fifteen minutes, and Sam’s still in frenzy mode.

If there’s anything Bucky’s learned in all the years he’s been around his partner, it’s that Sam’s never really quite figured out how to slow it down.

Good thing Bucky’s always happy to help.

He straightens up from where he’s leaning against their kitchen’s entryway and walks over towards Sam, purposefully making his footfalls a little louder than normal so he doesn’t sneak up behind him.

“We’ve been awake for almost thirty-six hours, sweetheart,” Bucky almost croons, cozying up behind Sam and wrapping his hands around his front. Bucky himself doesn’t really need the sleep—not the way that Sam does—but he’s found Sam’s a little bit more willing to be pulled into slumber if they’ve both gone without for a while.

Just a little, though.

“I’m so close to getting this grease stain out,” Sam says, huffing a bit between words, his metaphorical feathers ruffled up, trying his best to resist Bucky’s attempts to get him to sleep.

Bucky knows Sam isn’t getting that stain out, knows that vibranium wool wouldn’t be enough to get that stain out, but Sam’s working at it like he’ll get it out if it’s the last thing he ever does, Bucky’s soft crooning be damned.

Time to bring out the big guns, Bucky thinks, nuzzling at Sam’s neck before peppering soft kisses all over it.

It slows Sam down enough that Bucky knows he’s at least got an opportunity here, so he kisses a little slower, a little more sensual.

They’re both too tired to do anything tonight, but neck kisses have always been Sam’s kryptonite; they might be the only thing capable of distracting him when he’s this wound up.

The mission hadn’t exactly been a pretty one, after all.

“Wanna snuggle up to you tonight, angel,” he whispers in between kisses, voice soft and adoring. “Hold you all night long, keep you warm.”

That’s the last push Sam needs to relax his shoulders, setting his cleaning supplies over to the side and breathing in deeply as Bucky places one last kiss on his neck.

“Ready for bed, angel?” Bucky asks, as quiet as he can, and Sam just turns around in his arms in answer, wrapping his own arms around Bucky’s back and tucking his face into the crook of Bucky’s neck instead.

“Shower first?” he mumbles, the already quiet question muffled by the words being spoken into his neck, but Bucky hears him anyway, bending down just enough to pick Sam up, wrapping his legs around his waist and carrying him off to the shower.

Sam doesn’t take his face out of the crook of Bucky’s neck until he’s placed back on his feet, the warm spray at his back still cooler than the feeling of Bucky’s hands on his abdomen, sudsing him up.

It’s a quick shower, warm but mostly utilitarian, a few kisses when Bucky just can’t help himself aside. They dry off only enough to not be uncomfortable between the sheets, and Bucky picks an already almost asleep Sam up one last time to carry him over to bed.

Sam immediately turns over to lay half on top of him, burying his face in Bucky’s neck once again, like it’s a barrier to keep out everything else. Bucky knows it won’t be long until Sam moves—knows Sam sleeps like a hurricane when he feels safe enough to, always looking for the cool spot—but it’s enough to warm Bucky all over for now.

“Good night, sweetheart,” he says, wrapping his arm in tighter around Sam. “I love you.”

All he gets is Sam’s soft, slow breathing in reply, but he knows Sam falling asleep next to him that easily is an “I love you” in its own right.

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everlastlady · 9 months

Note

How do you think Striker will behave when he has the reader as a rival? Seeing how he treated Moxxie and Blitzo at the Harvest Moon Festival gives me the impression that he may have great tension with the reader. Like an exciting enemies to lovers.

- Crystal ✨️

I enjoy a good enemies to lovers plot if it's done right so hopefully that I done this right!

Striker X Reader: Awe Are You Mad?

━━━━━━༺༻ ━━━━━━━━━━━━༺༻ ━━━━━━━━━━━

Author's Note: Hello! My little imps, demonic sinners, & powerfully overlords. Here is another story request I feel like when I'm done with all these request that I'm going to take break from writing Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel content to write other fandoms or my own stuff. But If you love these stories and want more stories in the future. Please consider liking, comment, or reblogging. Check out my account for other Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss stories. Remember to always support your local fan fiction creators. Also remember to eat, drink water, and take your medicine.

Word Count: 3214.

Fandom: Helluva Boss.

Characters: Striker, Sallie Mae, Millie, Blitzø, Stolas, Joe, & Lin.

You and your family had been good friends with Millie’s family for a long time. You grew up with the tough imp woman who was just as strong and tough as you both. But the only difference was that you still lived with your parents and weren’t married. You supported Millie’s lifestyle and you also didn’t care that she married Moxxie, you like the little awkward imp that married your best friend because he was respectful towards her. A part of you envied their relationship because you hoped to find someone to leave your family’s farm with. Until then you are helping out your family; like tomorrow is the Harvest Moon festival. And you would help your family set for the games and like always you would be joining in on the games. But sadly Millie couldn’t join because of her neighbor's headcount which you don’t understand. What was the issue don’t you try to win in you and Millie’s honor. Millie’s parents had hired a farm helper who was currently helping you set for the games. You wouldn’t mind any help but the farm help named Striker was annoying. He always seemed to make fun of your height or your strength. Like right now you were carrying over some boxes only to almost trip but Striker caught you and the boxes. “ That was a close one, you should let me handle the rest of the work. I hate to see a little thing like you get hurt, besides you should leave the work to some of the strongest imps around here. “ He pushed you away and walked off carrying the boxes. You flip him the bird and growl. “ Asshole. “ You grumbled and walked away to go find some other work to do. You and Striker didn’t really get along; the two of you always butted heads, fought, or traded insults. The rivalry between you two was always shown for those around you both. That some people mistake it as that you two loved each other but don’t know how ro express it. “ Maybe if you two bone then yall won’t be at each other's throats. “ Sallie Mae said while tying down one of the tents this made you blush and shake your head. “ I’d rather fuck poison oak then get in the sack with that dipshit. “ You crossed your arms. Sallie Mae smirked and stood up. “ I bet you $20 and a burger that you’ll have sex with him eventually. “ Sallie Mae put out her hand.

You slapped away her hand and shook your head. “ I’m not betting you on that. “ You glared at Sallie Mae. “ What are you two talking about. “ Striker asked, walking towards the tent carrying one last box. Sallie Mae was going to tell him what you two were talking about. But you shot your hand out and covered her mouth. “ None of your damn business, don’t you have some cans to shoot or something. “ You weren’t going to let Striker hear about Sal’s bet, especially since he’ll say something that might sting. “ Why ya asking? Trying to see that I’m a better shot than you~ “ Striker laughed. “ Are you always this fucking cocky? Trying to feel big because something down there is small, maybe smaller than me~ “ Your lips curved into a smirk. Your comment made Striker blush and hiss, as he shot you glare and walked away. You wore a proud smirk, you still had your hand over Sallie Mae’s hand so she gave your hand a lick. You jumped and pulled your hand away. “ Gross Mae! “ You wipe your hand on her arm, as she smirks. “ Don’t put your hand near my mouth if you don’t want it to get licked, anyway so are you hoping he’s got a big cock or ? “ Sallie asked. You sighed and walked away not wanting to spend anymore time with Sallie making such comments about Striker. But in the back of your mind you were curious. You hadn’t seen Striker around so you and everyone else continued to help set up for the harvest moon festival. After everything was set up, you went home and ate dinner with your family. You were getting ready for bed and got into your pajamas. You wanted to let him some fresh so you went over to your window and opened it a bit but you stopped seeing a small white light coming from Striker’s window; you tilted your head with curiosity, but I guess you stared for to long because Striker walked by the window and locked eyes with you and sent you glare as you closes his curtains and the small white light faded.

You shrugged your shoulders. “ Guess he’s still mad about what I said oh well shouldn’t have been an asshole. “ You turned off your lap and got into bed. You scrolled through your phone a bit and eventually went to bed. The next morning you woke up and checked your phone like you usually did. You saw many messages and missed calls from Millie. So you check the messages and grim with excitement, Millie was telling you how she’ll be visiting for the harvest moon festival with her husband, her boss, and her boss HellHound. You heard chatter outside and peeked out your window. You grin wider as you see Millie and the others. You quickly got out of bed, washed your ass, and got dressed. You ran outside and ran towards your best friend. “ Millie! “ You called out. The little imp woman turned around and smiled widely. “ (Y/N)! “ She called back. The two of you ran towards each other and hugged each other. The small happy reunion between the two of you would have lasted a little longer if Millie’s father Joe didn’t call in Striker. Everyone looked in amazement as the hybrid Imp rode in on his horse but you had an annoyed look on your face while Striker introduced himself and you decided to stay quiet. Not wanting to fight with him in front of everyone so you went to go sit on the porch. You made a sound of disgust watching him kiss Millie’s hand and proceed to call her beautiful. You knew that Millie was beautiful but you knew how Striker could when trying to charm and butter others up.

You looked up from your phone and saw Millie’s husband walking towards the hog pin. You stood up and walked over to where everyone was. Everyone seemed to be cheering on Moxxie or making rude comments towards him. But then you saw that fucking bastard, that damn show off jumped into the pin and pulled Moxxie off the hog then killed it. You knew what Striker was doing; he was trying to impress everyone around him. You watched Striker belittle Moxxie and this made your . blood boils. “ Asshole…” You muttered under your breath. You continued to watch these events unfold and saw Moxxie feeling uncomfortable and hurt. You looked over to hear Joe talking about the harvest moon festival games. It seemed like Millie’s boss Blitz got excited hearing about the festival games. But when Moxxie said that he would join it seemed like that earned a chuckle from Joe and some smart remarks from Striker. “ I think I’ll also join the games. “ You said. Striker looked over at you. “ Are you sure about that darlin? I wouldn’t want a little thing like you and Mox getting trampled by us men out there. “ Striker smirked every word he said was like him trying to throw a knife at you but he missed his mark and this only added fuel to your fire. “ I’m sure I’ll be fine, and I’m sure that me or even Moxxie will kick your ass in the games, maybe it will make that ego of yours smaller like your dick. “ You said grinning. Striker let out a hiss and chuckled. “ Then let’s make a deal, you little smart ass. “ Striker said. “ I’m listening. “ You crossed your arms. “ Loser does the winner’s farm chores for a month. “ Striker held out his hand. You didn’t really like this deal seeing how big both Millie’s parents and your parents farms are but you were also confident that you would beat him. “ Alright deal. “ You and Striker both shook hands while smirking at you. Striker walked away and you looked at Moxxie who smiled at you. “ We got this. “ You gave him a confident smile to which he returned one. Millie promised that she would cheer you both on.

While you were getting ready for the summer games, Millie walked up and smiled. “ Hey (Y/N), I have a question? “ Millie asked. You were cleaning your boots but looked up. “ Yeah, what’s up? “ You slipped on your boots as Millie sat down next to you. “ I was talking with Sallie Mae about what the issue is between you and Striker. “ She stared at you, smirking. You just knew that Sallie said some bullshit. “ Dammit….” You sighed. “ What did your sister tell you? “ You asked but already knew. “ She thinks that you and him like each other. Is that true? “ She giggled and asked. “ Because if you two get married and have kids I call dibs on being the god mama and if he hurts you his ass is grass. “ She said, while jumping up and making punches in the air. “ Millie stop, I don’t have feelings for Striker, he is a complete ass why would I have feelings for an asshole. “ You crossed your arms. Millie stopped punching the air and cups her hands together. “ Sallie Mae told me that when they were all having dinner that Striker seemed upset and when my Pa asked him what’s wrong with him. Striker went on a rant about how annoying, weak, and stubborn you are. “ Millie said, this made you roll your eyes. “ But he also said that you were so hot that he just wanted to kiss you to shut you up. And then he left the table right after looking embarrassed.“ Millie said. You froze up and felt your face get hot. The man who annoyed the shit out of you and that you wanted to kick in the balls had a crush on you? Millie saw the blush on your face and started poking your arm. “ Oooh~ You like him also don’t you!? “ She said. You looked as if you had just been caught with your hands in the cookie jar. “ I~I do not like him!” You screeched which made Millie giggle. “ Listen, we have been friends since we were kids. We both knew when the other was upset, mad, and even in love so cut the shit (Y/N), he likes you and you like him. Yall are just letting your guys hate getting in the way. Maybe my sister is right if the two of you fuck then you won’t be at each others throat. “ Millie said while smirking.

You sighed and closed your eyes. Maybe you did like Striker but could you two even work? You hated him and he hated you, but was that something you both told each other to ignore these feelings but maybe it could work the two of you doing farmwork while exchanging sweet and flirty comments, riding horses together, and going out on cute dates like Millie tells you the ones her and Moxxie go on. This made you smile, you looked out the tent to see Striker talking with Blitz but Striker caught you glancing and flipped you off. You glared and turned around. “ I’m going to kick his ass in these games. “ You walked away as Millie sighed and left to go cheer you and Moxxie on. She and Sallie Mae hoped that you and Striker would seal the deal and not the one that you two made. You thought helping Moxxie through the games would be easy but it was more difficult than you could imagine. It was rough and you held out hope that you and him would be on that stage. But here you are now sitting in the stands with Moxxie the two of you looking beat up. While Striker and Blitz stood on stage the only difference was that Blitz didn’t look so smug while the prince announced the winners. You looked over seeing Millie trying to calm down Moxxie. You could also see that Moxxie was upset when Blitz mentioned that Striker would be working at I.M.P, this also upset you too for some reason because would that mean that Striker would be leaving the farm just like Millie to go work as an assassin. You shook your head and decided to help Millie calm down Moxxie. But Moxxie got up because of what Striker said during his song. You looked down at Striker from the stands and proceeded to leave. You went home to clean yourself up and tried not to get upset that you lost the deal with Striker. You would have to cancel some plans now.

You finished cleaning up and changed into some fresh clothes. You placed a bandage on your leg since you did get a little roughed up during the games. A part of you did have fun but it could have been more fun if it was with Millie and not some deal between you and Striker. But you still thought about what Millie told you. You felt your face become hot but your heart also hurt a little remembering how Blitz said that Striker would go work with them at I.M.P. You sat on your bed so many feelings made you feel confused that you hug your pillow tightly for comfort. Tears began to slide down your face and stain your pillow. As much as you hated Striker you would miss him because you loved him. “ Why are you crying? I was about to come and give you my wake up schedule.” You looked up and saw that Striker was standing in the doorway while holding up his phone. You wanted to punch that smug smile on his face but you looked away with a scowl and placed your face into the pillow. Striker let out a sigh and walked over. You felt weight on your bed and peek through your arms a bit to see Striker sitting on the bed. You sat up and saw that Striker was deep in thought with his mouth agape like he was trying to think of what to say. “ Millie ... .she told me how you felt about me, but Sallie Mae told her first what I said about you during dinner yesterday. “ He looked as flustered as you did before the games. “ Is it true? “ You asked him while wiping away your tears. Striker chuckled and looked down. “ Yeah, it’s true so I’m sorry that I was such an ass to ya darlin’, just sometimes you annoy me but I like that about you I like your sass and smart mouth. But I can’t just be calling you annoying because I’m sure I was an annoying asshole to you too right? “ He looked at you and reached out grabbing your hand. “ A complete ass. “ You said, chuckling. “ But yes, Millie is right. I do have feelings for you. “ You held his hand in a gentle grip. “ So are you going to tell me why you were crying then, I hope I’m not the reason. Because I apologize if I pushed you to your breaking part. We can also drop the deal because I don’t want you to overwork yourself. “ Striker cups your face and looks into your eyes.

“ No, It’s fine, I don’t mind doing the chores especially since you are going to be joining I.M.P “ You looked away and mumbled the last part softly but Striker heard you loud and clear. He pulled you close and kissed your head. You felt your face become warm and your stomach feeling butterflies. “ Is that why you were crying? I didn’t know that you’ll miss me that much heh. But darlin’ listen, I was just pulling Blitz’s name, I’m not going anywhere I like being my own boss. “ Striker snickered but this confused you. “ But you work for Millie’s parents? “ You looked up at Striker who let you go and stood up. He peeked out your door and looked around. He closed the door and locked it which made you blush. “ Listen Striker, I'm not ready for sex. “ You sheepishly said. Striker exploded in laughter at what you said. “ Slow your horses darlin’, I ain’t going to have sex with you. Just pay close attention to what I’m about to tell you, cannot leave this room. So promise me that you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you. “ He gave you a serious look. You loved Striker and he loved you. He trusted to tell you something important so you nodded your head. “ I promise. “ You stood up and looked at Striker. “ Remember that glowing little white light you saw from my room yesterday last night? “ He asked. “ Yeah, what was that about? I thought you were still mad about the comment I made about your dick “ You snicker as Striker rolls his eyes. “I can promise you that my peace keeper isn’t small darlin’. “

“ You see I ain’t no normal farm help. Sure I do some farm help for money or to take a break from my actual job where I am my own boss. I’m an assassin darlin’ and I was hired to kill that rich owl on stage. That little glowing light you saw. I have a blessing rifle that's used to kill demon royalty and my target’s wife hired me to kill him. I hope what I said doesn’t change things between us. “ He looked away. All this information didn’t phase you one bit so you walked over and cupped Striker’s face and kissed him. Striker’s tail rattles and yellow eyes widened but he melted into the kiss. After a couple of minutes you pulled away and looked at him. “ This doesn’t change anything. And it does help put together missing pieces of how you are so fast, strong, and have a lot of energy when doing farm work. Sure you are an assassin but I still love you Striker. “ You gave him a quick peck on the lips. Striker hissed out of happiness. “ I love you too (Y/N), now I have some business to take care of with the prince but when I’m done I do have to leave so I’m asking you to come with me, (Y/N) to come on the run with me so will you go with me and be mine on the run?. “ Striker held your hands to his chest while smiling. As much as you loved your family and you’ll get into trouble because of the work Striker did. You didn’t care so you looked at Striker and smiled. “ Yes, I’ll go with you. “ The two of you kissed. Striker pulls away and caresses your cheek. “ I’ll be back darlin’. “ He shot you a wink and left the room. You were excited and began to pack because you would be on the run with your rival who was now your lover.

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shion-yu · 2 months

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Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Elliot worries about Cliff while he’s on the road. Takes place during Elliot and Alex’s first US tour while Cliff is living with Shu. My fill for my @badthingshappenbingo space “Tearful Smile.” Original work, 1,932 words, no TWs. Mostly fluffy.

When someone started their sentence with the words “don't freak out," Elliot knew it was going to be bad. He'd heard it before: when his sister told him about their father's heart attack. When the lawyers messed up the licensing for their tour and it was almost canceled two weeks before they left home. "Don't freak out" was almost a surefire way to let him know that he did, indeed, need to freak out. Today turned out to be no exception.

They'd just gotten off stage after their show in Des Moines, Idaho. Elliot and Alex were toweling off, discussing what went well and what didn't, when Alex's phone rang. "It's my dad," Alex said. He answered, sticking a finger in his other ear because it was still noisy even backstage. "Hey, we just finished. Yeah. Elliot? Uh, why? Okay, sure."

Alex handed the phone to Elliot, a confused look on his face. Elliot put the phone up to his ear and answered, "Hello?"

“Hey Elliot, it's Shu. Don’t freak out," came Shu's voice over the phone. Elliot's stomach clenched immediately. Oh no.

"Thanks, I'm totally calm now," Elliot said sarcastically. "What is it? Is Cliff okay?" Alex was staring at him, leaning forward trying to garner Shu's response by the expressions on Elliot's face.

"He's in the hospital. Last night he wasn't doing too well so this morning I brought him to the ER. He has pneumonia."

"What?!" The word came out harsher than he meant to, but Elliot was shocked. Cliff had been just fine when he'd talked to him last night. And he hadn't mentioned anything about feeling bad when they had texted earlier today. How could he have pneumonia? "That can't be right," Elliot said quickly. "He hasn't even been sick."

"The doctor said sometimes stuff just happens really fast when someone has pre-existing conditions. He's okay, I mean, they said he’ll be okay," Shu said. He sounded frazzled.

Elliot retreated into the bathroom of their backstage area where an additional door might block the sound out a bit more. "What happened?"

"Last night he came and got me, said he couldn't breathe too well," Shu explained. "This morning I checked his oxygen and it was low, so we went to the hospital. He's back up to normal now, but he's still got a fever and he's kind of confused."

Elliot cringed, knowing how Cliff got when his oxygen was low. Confused was best case scenario; raving and hallucinating was worst case. He was so glad he'd convinced Cliff to hold off moving out of Shu's place until Elliot came back from the tour now. "Okay, can I talk to him?" Elliot asked.

"He's getting a CT right now," Shu said. "But I'll call you when he comes back, alright? I'm sorry to drop this on you right after your show. Did it go well?"

"Yeah, fine," Elliot muttered. He couldn't care less about the show anymore. He was trying to calculate how he could possibly fly back to New York, see Cliff, and return in time for their show tomorrow night in the next state over. They didn't exactly have the budget for a surprise visit, but it seemed wrong not to come when Cliff was in the hospital. "Can I borrow some money?" He asked.

"I mean, yes, but I'm not sure that's necessary," Shu said patiently. "I think Cliff's really gonna be okay. I'm going to be with him the whole time, okay? You should focus on work right now."

How the hell was he supposed to focus on work when his boyfriend was in the hospital? Elliot grit his teeth and said, "I can decide when I talk to him. Call me when he's back." Shu agreed and then hung up. Elliot closed his eyes and tried to take a few deep breaths. Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't...

Alex knocked on the door and called, "Elliot? We gotta get outta here, place is closing." Elliot grit his teeth and came out of the bathroom, shoving Alex's phone into his hands as he passed the younger man. "Is Cliff okay?"

"No," Elliot said a little angrily, shoving their check for the night into his backpack. "He has pneumonia and Shu brought him to the hospital."

"Oh," Alex said, hovering awkwardly. "Um... Can I do anything for you?"

Elliot groaned in frustration. "No, just, I don't know. I’m worried.”

Alex approached cautiously. "Pneumonia’s curable," Alex said. "I've had it before."

"You're not Cliff," Elliot snapped. Then realizing the look on Alex's face, sighed and ran a shaky hand through his greased hair. "Sorry, I'm just worried. You know he's sick. Not just pneumonia sick. Like..."

"I know," Alex said. "I’m sorry. Do we need to cancel tomorrow night, or like...? I don't know how it works."

Alex was almost five years younger than Elliot, and usually that didn't matter. But when it came to stuff like this he was clueless and Elliot didn't have the patience to deal with him right now. "I'll let you know," Elliot said shortly, trying to keep the irritation in his voice to a minimum. "Let's just get out of here. Shu's gonna call me back."

They gathered up the rest of their things and made their way back to their minivan-turned-tour bus. Alex drove them to the Holiday Inn where they were booked for the night and Elliot stared at his phone waiting for Shu to call him back. It felt like it took forever, and every worst case scenario was flying through Elliot's head. He became convinced the only thing to do was fly home right now and started looking up flights. But finally Shu called, and just in time because Elliot was starting to panic about not finding any flights that actually worked with their schedule. Elliot answered on the first ring.

"Elly?"

The voice was Cliff's, not Shu's. Elliot could have collapsed with relief. He sat on the edge of his hotel room bed which he'd been pacing in front of until now. Alex was showering, but Elliot was pretty sure he was just trying to stay out of the way because he’d been in there forever. "Cliff, oh my god," Elliot gushed. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, really," Cliff croaked. His voice was weak and raspy, but he sounded lucid. "I don't think I’m even gonna stay overnight. Just got a little low on air, that's all."

Elliot let out a desperate sob of a laugh. "Just low on air, no big deal huh?" He said, voice breaking with a mix of relief and desperation at the end.

"Mhm." Cliff paused to cough. Elliot recognized the wet bark and ached knowing he wasn't there to help Cliff through it. "El? I'm okay. Don't fly in, I've got Shu and you can't miss a show."

"I don't know," Elliot said worriedly, nibbling his lower lip anxiously. "You sound like you need me."

"I don't," Cliff said, surprising Elliot. "I mean, of course I want you, but you're needed over there way more than here. If I was really not okay I’d tell you. I promise.”

Elliot wiped tears away that had welled up and run down his cheeks. "Are you sure?" He asked. He wanted to be at Cliff's side so badly, but Cliff was right. They couldn't do a show without him and it wouldn’t be a good look to miss a date on his first tour. They’d worked too hard to mess this up. "Only if you're one hundred thousand percent sure."

"I'm sure," Cliff said. "I'm sure and I love you so much. We can talk tomorrow, sound good?"

"Yeah," Elliot sniffled. “Sorry. I know you’re sick but I’m the one crying. I just wish I could be there for you somehow.”

“You’re always there for me,” Cliff said. “Even if you’re somewhere else.” On the other side of the country with spotty cell service and barely any time to think about home. But Elliot always had time to think about Cliff.

“I love you so much. You call me if anything changes,” Elliot said. “If I don’t answer, call Alex, and if Alex doesn’t answer, call Lisa.” Their manager would understand, but if they could avoid getting on her bad side throughout this entire tour it’d be both a blessing and a miracle.

Cliff coughed again. Elliot could tell he was losing his voice. “Okay,” he said hoarsely. “Love you, Elly. Oh, here’s Shu.”

There was a bit of shuffling as the phone was handed to Shu. Elliot could hear Cliff coughing hard in the background now and was sure that Cliff had been fighting the urge to do so for their entire conversation. “Elliot? Yeah, he’s okay, see? We caught it early.”

“Thank you,” Elliot said shakily. “Please keep me updated?”

“Of course,” Shu promised. “Now get some rest. You two have a lot of driving to do tomorrow.”

They hung up and Elliot let himself cry for a few minutes. He knew Alex could hear him from the bathroom, no doubt, but he couldn’t help it. He gave himself about five minutes before he slapped his own cheeks, took several deep breaths and counted in his head until he felt calm again. Alex poked his head out of the bathroom looking cautious and awkward. “I’m done,” Elliot said. “Cliff’s gonna be okay.”

Alex nodded and came into the room. His blonde hair was damp from the shower and he sat on his bed across from Elliot’s. “Good,” he said. “Shu’s really good at taking care of people.”

“I know,” Elliot said, forcing a tired smile at the younger man. “Thanks.”

Elliot took his turn in the shower and then they tried to sleep. They had a long couple of hours of driving to do tomorrow, then soundcheck, then the show, then another hotel. It was a cycle that was both exciting and tiring. Elliot never imagined he’d make a career out of his songwriting hobby, but here he was. It was something he was so incredibly proud of, but it also wasn’t an easy career either. He missed his parents, he missed his bed, and he missed Cliff most of all. At one point they’d considered bringing Ryo and Cliff along, but Ryo was in veterinary school and Cliff’s health was too tenuous for the road. Phone calls and texts had to suffice for now. Usually it was just enough, but tonight it felt especially hard when Elliot wished he and Cliff could be in each other’s arms.

He couldn’t sleep with worry. After tossing and turning for about an hour he grew frustrated and picked up his phone. He sent a single text to Cliff.

‘I miss you. I’m sorry I’m not with you.’

It was almost one in the morning, but Cliff replied right away. ‘Don’t be sorry. We just got back home. All is well! I miss you too, but I’m more proud of you. I love you a lot!!’

Elliot couldn’t help but laugh. Cliff was so level in person that it always amused him how he texted with so many exclamation marks. Cliff knew Elliot found it funny and had definitely done it on purpose this time. Elliot wiped a few tears from his eyes. Cliff was going to be okay. Elliot would get through this tour because he’d earned it, and then he’d come home and Cliff would be there waiting for him. Elliot read the text a few more times and finally fell asleep with a little smile on his face.

#shionwrites #sickfic #Shu and Alex and Cliff and Elliot oh my #errbody's here #oc sickfic #illness whump #whump #sicknario #bad things happen bingo #tearful smile #oc: cliff #oc: alex #oc: shu #oc: elliot #picture was messed up so reuploading

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anticomedygarden · 1 year

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everyone goes south, every now and then

title from billy joel's 'the stranger'

based on this post on my main

thanks @queeremochaos for the push to write this!

“I don’t care how you phrase it, I’m not gonna endorse you going back to Tartarus,” Percy said, voice already sharper than it was fifteen minutes ago when Nico had first entered his and Annabeth’s apartment.

He and Will were visiting their friends in New Rome for a much needed break. Well, as much as it could be considered a break when Will kept trying to go ‘check out the infirmary’. Nico knew what that meant: work. He had finally relented after three days, however, and Will was getting a guided tour of Camp Jupiter’s medical facilities while Nico hung out with Percy and Jason.

“It’s not like I’m asking you to go,” he grumbled. And he wasn’t! He just wanted to see Iapetus again. He hadn’t even asked Will yet.

Abruptly, Percy slammed down the bowl he was mixing batter in, and Nico jumped. “It doesn’t matter, Nico! Tartarus is literally hell! All three of us barely survived. Why would you want to go back?”

Wide-eyed, Nico just blinked at him for a moment. It took a lot to get Percy mad at his friends, but it seemed Nico had pressed the right buttons. He always had been good at that.

At the table, Jason also looked shocked at their friend’s outburst, though Nico almost told him not to bother. Jason hadn’t been there for those first couple years of Nico and Percy’s relationship and therefore had no idea the extent of anger they could level at each other.

The son of Hades looked back at Percy. “I just wanna fix the mess that you left behind.”

Next to him, Jason gasped, but Nico didn’t wait around to see Percy’s reaction. He ran out the door into the hallway and was halfway down the steps when Jason caught up with him.

“Go away,” Nico bit out, and continued down the stairs.

Panting slightly (had Nico really been going that fast?), Jason said, “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Of course he did. Because Jason was Rome’s little golden boy who had never been mean to anyone in his life. “I’m fine.”

“I don’t believe you,” he responded, jogging faster to cut in front of the black-haired boy.

Nico pushed past him. “I don’t need you to check on me like a child.”

Jason frowned. “You are a child.”

He snorted. As if. “Well, you’ve done it, so you can go check on Percy now. I know you’re going to.”

The son of Jupiter sighed. “You’re right, but that doesn’t mean I care any less about your answer.” He paused. “And what you said to him was pretty bad.”

Nico waved him off. “By tomorrow, he’ll have apologized for getting mad, I’ll feel bad for being mean, and neither of us will care anymore.” Such was the nature of their relationship, especially since the Giant War had ended, much to the chagrin of Will and Annabeth who were often caught in the middle of their arguments.

Jason looked at him skeptically. “I don’t understand you two.”

“Join the club.”

Nico turned to leave, and Jason shouted after him, “I also don’t think you should go to Tartarus!”

He threw up a middle finger. “Tell me something I don’t know!”

Once Nico was out of the building, he just started walking, not really caring where he went. Somehow, he ended up running into Leo Valdez outside the engineer building at New Rome University.

“Neeks!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

Nico had to take a moment to process being near so much energy with so little good mood left. “Me and Will are visiting New Rome for the week. What are you doing here?”

His eyes lit up. “I’m helping Jason and Annabeth with the minor gods temple project.”

Nico cocked his head. “But Annabeth’s in class and Jason’s at Percy’s?”

“I know, I was just checking out the engineering building.” He got a guarded look on his face. “Don’t tell anyone, but I might be in there a lot next year.”

Nico’s eyebrows flew up. “You’re thinking about going to NRU?” That was a surprise. He’d thought Leo was permanently camped out in Indiana with Calypso at the Waystation.

Leo put his index finger against his mouth. “Calypso and I broke up.”

Nico blinked at him. “What?”

He nodded, brown curls tipping forward into his face, and Nico noticed that he didn’t look too upset. The breakup was either amicable, or it happened a while ago. “Yeah, she needed some time to be by herself without being tied to anyone.”

“And you?”

He smiled. “Let’s just say, there’s someone here I have my eye on.” He shook his head. “Enough about that. What’s got you all huffy?”

Nico wrinkled his nose at the description, though he knew from Will that it was probably dead-on. “I’m mad at Percy.”

Leo laughed. “Why does that not surprise me?”

Nico glared at him.

“What was it this time?” Apparently Leo had a better grasp of their relationship than Jason did.

Nico hesitated to answer since he was sure Leo would be on the same side as Jason and Percy. “He doesn’t want me to go to Tartarus.” He felt his face redden.

Leo huffed a laugh. “Seriously, what is it?” When Nico stared at him, his eyes widened. “You’re not joking.”

Before the self-righteous lecture he knew was coming could start, Nico opened his mouth to defend himself. “I just want to see if Iapetus is still there and if I can bring him back.”

Surprisingly, Leo licked his lips, considering. “Ookay, so you wanna go back to hell?” His head bobbed. “That’s…cool.”

Nico nodded. “Yeah, and it’s not like this time would be as bad as last time. Now, I know what to expect, so I’ll be prepared.”

“That’s certainly one way to look at it.” Leo’s eyebrow furrowed, and Nico knew he had lost him. “But - and hear me out - maybe Tartarus isn’t something you can prepare for?”

“That’s what Will said,” Nico grumbled. When he had told his boyfriend about his idea, he’d barely gotten the words ‘Tartarus’ and ‘I wanna go’ out before Will was shutting him down.

Leo thrust out his hands, palms up. “You should listen to him!” Nico rolled his eyes, but Leo continued. “What exactly did you say to Percy to make him so mad?”

Nico blushed and muttered something vaguely adjacent to the words he had thrown at the son of Poseidon, and Leo said, “What?”

Nico glared at him. “I told him I wanted to fix his mess.”

Leo stumbled. “Yeah, I can definitely see why he would take offense to that.”

Nico threw up his hands. “You’re no help.”

Pretty soon, Leo had to go meet Annabeth and Jason to talk about building plans, so Nico followed the smell of hot chocolate after his stomach started grumbling, thinking he could at least make Will happy by eating lunch.

He soon realized that was a mistake, however, as the second he stepped into the cafe, he was met with an outlandish leopard print shirt attached to a tan, middle aged man. “Lord Dionysus? What are you doing in New Rome?”

Immediately, the god shushed him and pushed him into a booth, panic written in the lines on his face. Eyes darting around the room, he visibly relaxed when it seemed no one was looking at them. “You’re going to get me recognized, boy.” He took a slurp from the drink in his hand, an aggressively pink thing with ice cubes floating in it. “Call me Dio if you must call me anything.”

Too confused to disagree, Nico nodded. “How are you here?”

Dionysus slurped his drink again. “The drinks here are to die for.” He waved his hand, and an identical cup appeared in front of Nico. When he hesitated, Dionysus raised an eyebrow. “Drink.”

Nico peered down at the flimsy paper straw and cautiously took a sip. It wasn’t half bad. He took another sip. “So, what, they don’t have coffee shops on Olympus?”

Dionysus wrinkled his nose. “Those dastardly shops only serve all organic ambrosia now that Iris has taken over.” The god drank some more of his beverage, and Nico had to bite back a laugh at how ridiculous the divine man looked sipping bright pink liquid from a paper straw.

Nico tried again. “I thought you couldn’t be in your Greek form here without going insane.”

“You forget, boy, that I am the god of insanity,” Dionysus answered. “And some things are worth the risk. Like Mango dragon fruit.” He took a loud slurp.

Nico supposed that made sense, though he vividly remembered Jason describing Dionysus and Bacchus being one of the split gods during the war that had trouble retaining either form. And the drink wasn’t that good.

“I also heard that fight you just had with Poseidon’s boy, and I must say, I agree with him.”

The drink suddenly turned to ash in his mouth. He coughed, then winced, knowing his next words could get him turned into a dolphin but knowing he couldn’t stop them. “Why do you care?”

Fortunately, Dionysus didn’t seem to be too preoccupied with Nico’s disrespectful behavior. He appeared to think for a moment, though, knowing Dionysus, he could have just been warding off brain freeze. (Did gods get brain freeze? He’d have to ask Apollo next time he visited Camp.) “Contrary to what I have said before, and, honestly, how I felt for much of the last century, I have come to care for you unruly children I was regrettably placed in charge of.”

“I certainly feel cared for.”

“Good.”

Nico shook his head. “I still want to go. I have to know if Iapetus is alive.”

“A noble quest.” Finally reaching the end of his drink, Dionysus looked to the side, an odd expression on his face. “Are you sure it will be worth it?”

To stop feeling the guilt eating away at him, to stop the nightmares that still plagued him? “Yes.”

Dionysus leaned forward. “I’ll be sure to tell your boyfriend that when he’s standing over your corpse.”

Nico refused to listen to any more. He knew what he needed, and he knew if he didn’t go, he would never find closure, and he also knew from experience that that was no way to live. “We’re done here.”

Grabbing his drink, he stood to leave, but Dionysus seemingly had one more thing to tell him. “Careful, boy. One day, you’ll need my help, and I might not be feeling so generous.”

He could unpack that later. For now, he walked right out the door, leaving Dionysus sipping a new drink, this one purple, and staring after him.

Nico walked until he found an alley and ducked into it to catch his breath, just then noticing the droplets of rain dotting his bare arms. Suddenly, there was a loud clap of thunder, and the drizzle turned into a deluge, soaking him instantly. He looked up at the sky. “Fuck you!”

It only rained harder.

Across New Rome in the Camp Jupiter dining area, Will Solace was having a lovely conversation with fifth cohort Centurion Hazel Levesque.

“So,” she was saying, “what did you think of the infirmary?” Now that she had seen Camp Half-Blood and gotten a chance to really explore it, Hazel had confessed to being worried that some of their facilities weren’t up to standard, though one look at the infirmary had Will assuring her that her worries were unfounded.

“It was great. I really loved the organization you have going on in there,” he said. Privately, he added that it was far better than he expected. For some reason, when he thought of the Camp Jupiter infirmary, he had been worried it would be reminiscent of a medical tent like the ones they had brought with them during the Giant War, but thankfully, they had a real building as well.

All of a sudden, his phone buzzed, and he smiled sheepishly at Hazel. “Sorry, it’s from Nico.” He quickly scanned the message. “He’s upset with Percy and Jason.”

Hazel frowned. “Why?”

Still looking at his phone, Will said, “He didn’t say.” Then, he looked up but almost immediately looked back down when his phone buzzed again. “He’s also upset with Leo.” There was another buzz. “And Dionysus.” It buzzed a final time. “And Zeus.”

Hazel laughed, and Will laughed with her. “Of course he is.”

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